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THE RADIO DETECTIVES 
IN THE JUNGLE 



By A. HYATT VERRILL 



THE RADIO DETECTIVES 

THE RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER 
THE SEA 

THE RADIO DETECTIVES 
SOUTHWARD BOUND 

THE RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE 
JUNGLE 

THE DEEP SEA HUNTERS 

THE BOOK OF THE MOTOR BOAT 

ISLES OF SPICE AND PALM 

200 C 



THE RADIO DETECTIVES 
IN THE JUNGLE 



A. HYATT VERRILL 

AUTHOR OF "THE RADIO DETECTIVES," "THE RADIO DETECTIVES 

UNDER THE SEA," "THE RADIO DETECTIVES 

SOUTHWARD BOUND," ETC. 




D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

NEW YORK : : 1922 : : LONDON 










COPYRIGHT. 1922, BY 

B. APPLETON AND COMPANY 



PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 



C1A686135 



Av^ 6 j 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 

I. Strange Places 1 

II. A Cry for Help 16 

III. The Castaways 35 

IV. More Mysteries 55 

V. The End of the Submarine 78 

VI. In South America 96 

VII. Off for the Jungle 117 

VIII. On the Trail 135 

IX. Kenaima! 163 

X. Red Beard Seals His Doom 180 

XI. Vengeance 195 

XII. The End of the Trail 219 



RADIO DETECTIVES 
IN THE JUNGLE 

CHAPTER I 

STRANGE PLACES 

A HURRICANE had swept through the West 
Indies leaving death and destruction in its 
path and wrecking scores of vessels, up- 
rooting trees, stripping the tops from palms, de- 
stroying crops and blowing down the flimsy native 
houses. 

Now that it was over and there was no danger of its 
return those ships that had escaped the storm within 
snug harbors began to creep forth to resume their 
interrupted voyages. Some were uninjured. Others 
had rigging or deck fittings carried away, while 
some were so badly crippled that they limped as 
rapidly as possible towards the nearest dry dock for 
repairs. 

Among them was a lean gray destroyer which 

1 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

slipped out of Coral Bay at St. John and headed her 
sharp prow southward. That she had borne the brunt 
of the terrific gale was evident, for of her four funnels 
only two were standing, her decks had been swept 
bare, fathoms of her railings had been carried away 
and from half way up her military mast she was white 
with encrusted salt. But she had received no vital 
injury. From her two remaining funnels dense 
volumes of smoke were pouring, a busy crowd of 
bluejackets labored like ants at repairing the damages 
to superstructure and fittings and, despite the buffet- 
ing she had received and the fact that half her boilers 
were out of commission until the funnels could be 
replaced, she slid through the oily seas at a twenty- 
knot clip. 

To those who have followed the Radio Detectives 
through their previous adventures the group upon the 
crippled destroyer's decks will need no introduction. 
There was the trim, spick-and-span Commander 
Disbrow, the deep-sea diver, Rawlins, Mr. Pauling 
and his friend Mr. Henderson and the two boys, Tom 
Pauling and his chum Frank. 

But for the benefit of those who now meet the Radio 
Detectives for the first time a few words of explan- 
ation will be needed. 

2 



STRANGE PLACES 

Months before the story opens, Tom Pauling and 
Frank had discovered a most astounding plot by- 
means of their radio telephones and thereby enabled 
Tom's father and his associate, Mr. Henderson, who 
were federal ofl&cers in the Secret Service, to make 
prisoners of a number of members of an international 
gang of scoundrels whose activities included the dis- 
tribution of Bolshevist literature, the destruction of 
property, smuggling contraband liquor into the United 
States and conducting a widespread series of hold- 
ups, robberies and other crimes. Through confes- 
sions and other evidence Mr. Pauling and Mr. Hen- 
derson had learned that the arch criminal or master 
mind of the plot was hiding in a secret lair in the West 
Indies which — after a series of thrilling adventures 
on the part of the two boys and their companions, 
including Rawlins and Sam, a Bahaman negro — 
had been located, only to find that the leader 
of the criminals had slipped through the net set for 
him. 

Then, influenced by a "hunch" on Rawlins' part, 
Mr. Pauling and his companions had followed a tramp 
steamer, of which they were suspicious, to St. Thomas. 
Although there was no evidence conclusive enough 
to warrant holding the tramp, suspicion pointed to 

3 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

the fact that the leader of the gang of criminals was 
somewhere in the vicinity. Owing to mysterious 
radio messages, the party chartered a schooner and 
went to the neighboring island of St. John. 

Here they met a Dutch naturalist named Van Brunt 
who was dealing with the "reds." Rawlins, spying 
on him, was held up and narrowly escaped death at 
the hands of a man whom he recognized as the master 
criminal they were seeking. Later, this man was 
found dead and proved to be a person disguised to 
impersonate the real leader, while Van Brunt visited 
the schooner and convinced Mr. Pauling and Mr. 
Henderson that he was innocent and knew nothing of 
the "red's " activities. 

Becoming friendly with the boys, the Dutch scien- 
tist took them on a trip into the bush and while they 
were in a huge cave, deserted them. Soon after- 
wards a severe hurricane swept the island, imprison- 
ing the two boys within the cavern by a tree falling 
across the entrance. In the meantime the other 
members of the party were compelled to seek refuge 
from the hurricane in the village on shore and were 
amazed to see the tramp steamer entering the harbor 
to escape the storm. As soon as the gale was over a 
searching party started out to find the missing boys 

4 



STRANGE PLACES 

and discovered that Van Brunt's house had been des- 
troyed by lightning. 

While they were hunting for the boys, Tom and 
Frank had been made prisoners by a red-bearded 
man whom they knew was one of the gang. They 
had been placed on a submarine where Van Brunt 
confronted them, admitting he was a member of the 
"reds" and had purposely betrayed the boys. From 
the submarine they were taken to a locked cabin on a 
vessel and later were rescued in a most astounding 
manner by Sam, the Bahaman, who also killed Van 
Brunt. During their imprisonment the boys had 
overheard a plot to capture the other members of the 
party by means of a decoy letter and reaching their 
friends safely Tom and Frank related their tale in 
time to save the others from falling into the scoun- 
drels' trap. Soon afterwards a destroyer, which was 
in constant touch with the schooner by radio, arrived 
in response to Mr. Pauling's summons. The tramp, 
in a last desperate attempt to escape, tried to run down 
the schooner but failed owing to Rawlins' quick wit. 
Then, turning, the tramp endeavored to leave the 
harbor by a narrow entrance, but was sunk by a shot 
from the destroyer's guns. 

From the boys' descriptions and Sam's discoveries 

5 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

the Americans learned that the tramp was a "mother 
ship" for the submarine with a huge cradle or 
opening in the hull wherein the underseas boat could 
rest and be carried from place to place. But 
although a search was made of the wrecked tramp no 
trace of either the submarine or of bodies could be 
found. Mr. Pauling and the others felt convinced, 
however, that the leader of the gang was still at large 
and while discussing this matter their attention was 
drawn to a seaplane which they decided was a 
United States government machine sent from Porto 
Rico ot St. Thomas to learn the cause of the explosion. 

After the aircraft had disappeared the party 
returned to the destroyer and to their amazement were 
given a radio message from the aviator which Mr. 
Pauling recognized as coming from the arch criminal 
whom they were seeking. 

But although their quarry had once more escaped 
them and had taken to the air, Rawlins insisted they 
would yet capture him and pointed out that the sea- 
plane must descend and that when it did they should 
be on hand. 

Although it seemed but a slim chance, still the 
diver's hunches had invariably proved so reliable 
that Mr. Pauling had at once decided to take Rawlins' 

6 



STRANGE PLACES 

advice and, transferring himself and his party to the 
partially disabled destroyer, had at once started forth 
to search the neighboring islands for the aircraft 
which had last been seen flying southward. 

And as the lean gray craft slipped out of the 
shelter of Coral Bay and felt the heave of the Carib- 
bean sea, Rawlins was speaking. "Airplanes aren't 
so common down here that they can fly over the 
islands without being noticed," he asserted. "If we 
stop in at them here and there we ought to be able 
to trail him. He'd have to head for some place and 
by finding out where he's been seen we can get his 
direction. I'll bet he's got some hang-out down here. 
Of course, he could land on the water, but it would 
have to be in the lee of an island even if he was going 
to be picked up by a ship." 

"Or the submarine," put in Mr. Pauling. "Don't 
forget that the chances are the sub escaped and is to 
meet him." 

"Yes, but he can't land on a sub and he couldn't 
have started off from it. No, he's either got some 
ship or a secret landing place and hangar for his 
plane on shore. Besides, if he tries sending mes- 
sages the boys can pick them up." 

"To my mind," declared Mr. Henderson. "It is 

7 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

like hunting for the proverbial needle in the hay- 
stack. There are a score and more of islands — to 
say nothing of cays — and although he started south 
we have no means of knowing how soon he may have 
shifted his course. Why, even now, he may be over 
in Santo Domingo, Cuba or Tortuga or he may have 
turned east to St. Barts or Barbuda. If we went to 
every island we would be here for the next year." 
"I'll say we would!" laughed Rawlins. "But we 
don't need to. Once we pick up his trail and know 
his course it'll be easy. A fellow can't fly far in 
any direction without being in sight of an island and 
if we lose him we can easily find his trail again by 
calling at an island or two." 

"Sounds easy, I admit," remarked Mr. Henderson 
rather sarcastically. "But what is to prevent him 
from going straight across to South America for 
example? Then we'd have a nice job trying to find 
where he landed — I suppose we'd have to hunt the 
entire northern coast of the continent." 

"I expect you're jollying me a bit," replied the 
diver, "but honest Injun you know he couldn't make 
a nonstop flight to South America from here and if 
he took a course for there our job would be all the 
easier. There are only a few islands between here 

8 



STRANGE PLACES 

and South America, in a direct line you know. I 
think the best place to ask will be Statia or St. Croix. 
Then, if they haven't seen or heard him, we can 
swing to the east to St. Kitts or St. Barts." 

"I'm backing your hunch you know, Rawlins," 
asserted Mr. Pauling, "and if you say St. Croix first, 
St. Croix it is. We're outside now and we'd better 
give Commander Disbrow his course." 

"Well, I guess we'll make it Statia first," replied 
Rawlins after a moment's thought. It's the nearest 
and in nearly a direct line with the course he took. 
Besides, the Dutch captain of the tramp may still be 
in the hospital there. If he is we can see him 
and maybe pump some information from him. 
Perhaps, if he knows his ship's gone to Davy Jones 
and the others have skedaddled he'll come across with 
a confession to clear his own skirts." 

"Yes, that's a good scheme," agreed Mr. Pauling. 
"We'll make Statia first then." 

The two boys had thought St. Thomas and St. John 
fascinating and beautiful, but as the towering vol- 
canic cone of St. Eustatius or "Statia" as it is more 
often called, rose above the sea with the far reaching, 
rich green hills and cloud-piercing, frowning heights 

of St. Kitts to the east, they could only gaze in rapt 

9 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

admiration and declared they had never seen any- 
thing so wonderful or beautiful. 

"Wait until you see the other islands," said Raw- 
lins, laughing at the boys' excited exclamations of 
delight. "Why, St. Kitts over there isn't anything 
compared to Dominica or Martinique and as for 
Statia — -well of course it looks high and it's striking 
because it's small and the cone is so perfect in 
shape, but it's no bigger than little St. John and 
it would be only a hill on Guadeloupe or Dominica." 

"Gee, I hope the old seaplane went everjrwhere so 
we can see all the islands," declared Tom. "It's a 
shame we are down here and won't see those you talk 
about." 

"Maybe we will," said the diver. "At any rate, 
we're bound to see some of them, but look over there 
to the west. See that big cone sticking up to the 
right of Statia? Well that's the strangest island in 
the West Indies if not in the world. It's Saba." 

"But no one lives there!" complained Frank, who 
was studying the conical mass of rock rising abruptly 
for a thousand feet above the sea. 

"Don't they!" exclaimed Rawlins. "I'll say they 
do! But you can't see 'em or their houses from the 
sea. Saba's just a big volcano — dead of course. 

10 



STRANGE PLACES 

The town's in the crater — about eight hundred 
feet above the sea. It's called 'Bottom.' The 
people are Dutch and speak English and if you 
visited 'em you'd have to climb a stairway cut in the 
rocks with eight hundred steps. And I'll bet my 
boots to a herring you can't guess what the folks who 
live up in that crater do for a living." 

"No, but I should think they might make balloons 
or airplanes," replied Tom. 

" 'Twould be more appropriate," agreed Rawlins, 
"but instead they make boats ! Carry the lumber up 
that stairway — it's called 'The Ladder' — ^build the 
boats in the crater and lower 'em over the mountain 
side just as if they were launching 'em from a ship. 

"Oh, you're just kidding us!" declared Tom. 
"That's too big a yarn!" 

"True, nevertheless," his father, who had drawn 
near, assured him. "I've heard of it before." 

" 'Course it's true!" avowed the diver. "And 
there are a lot of other blamed funny things about 
Saba that are true. All the folks keep their cofiins 
in their houses and look after 'em just like the 
other furniture and most of the young men are 
sailors. I know two or three who are mates of big 

transatlantic liners. And the town's so high up 

11 



Adio detectives in the jungle 

^ley can grow potatoes and strawberries and such 
things there." 

"But who do they sell them to?" asked Frank. 

"Take 'em over to St. Kitts mostly," Rawlins 
told him. 

"Well, I'd like to go there," declared Tom. 
"Don't you suppose they saw the airplane? If 
they're so high up, they might have got a good view 
of it." 

"Sure they might," agreed Rawlins. "But if 
they did, the folks on Statia did too, and it's no easy 
job landing at Saba — ^no dock or harbor — ^just a 
tiny strip of pebbly beach among the rocks. It's 
impossible to go ashore if there's any sea running." 

"I call that too bad!" said Frank. "I suppose 
there's nothing very odd or interesting about Statia." 

"Well, I guess it's not so interesting as Saba," 
admitted the diver. "But it's pretty interesting if 
you know it's history. It's the first place where 
the American flag was saluted and during the Rev- 
olutionary War it was the richest and busiest port 
in the world. And the biggest auction the world's 
ever seen was held there. You'll not see any ships 
or warehouses to speak of at Orange Town now, but 
you'll see the remains of the old ones." 

12 



STRANGE PLACES 






'Then why was it given up?" asked Tom. 
Twasn't!" laughed Rawlins. "At least, not 
purposely. You see, during the Revolution, Statia, 
being Dutch and a free port, was used as a clearing 
place for the French, British, and Americans. It 
was neutral, and all the goods going in or out of the 
West Indies were sent there and stored until called 
for by ships. But the English sent a warship and 
seized everything, and then auctioned olf the whole 
lot — ships and merchandise both — and of course, 
the business was never resumed." 

"How do you happen to know so much about all 
these places, may I ask?" inquired Mr. Henderson. 
"You seem to be a sort of walking gazetteer of the 
West Indies." 

Rawlins chuckled. "Well, you see," he answered, 
"father was a sea captain before he took to salvage 
work and I used to go on trips with him from the 
time I was a kid, knee high to a grasshopper. His 
old hooker had a West Indian trade route and I saw 
nearly all the islands and what I didn't see for my- 
self he told me about. Then, when I took to diving 
I got a lot of work down here." 

"Ah, I understand," said Mr. Henderson. "And, 
knowing the islands so well, could you suggest any 

13 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

one — or several — which would be suitable as land- 
ing places for that plane?" 

"Sure," replied the diver. "He could land 
at pretty nearly any of them — or rather near them. 
There are long stretches of uninhabited coast on 
all. Even Barbados, which is the most densely 
inhabited, has plenty of places where a plane could 
slip in and none be wiser — only they'd see him 
coming and run like blazes to watch him come down. 
No, I don't expect he'll try landing near any of the 
big islands. More likely he'd pick some small cay 
or outlying islet — ^there are several around Martin- 
ique and Guadeloupe and— ^by glory, yes! There's 
Aves. Great Scott! I hadn't thought of that." 

"Aves!" repeated Mr. Pauling, questioningly. 
"You mean the place down off the Venezuelan 
coast — 'The pleasant Isle of Aves' — in the old pir- 
ate song?" 

"No, another one," replied Rawlins. "A tiny 
bit of land about one hundred miles west of Domin- 
ica in the middle of the Caribbean. It's an ideal 
spot. Not an inhabitant; flat as a table — although 
that's no advantage with a sea plane — and out of 
the course of all shipping. I've a hunch that's his 
place." 

14 



STRANGE PLACES 

Mr. Pauling laughed. "Your hunches are com- 
ing thick and fast, Rawlins," he said. *'Is this one 
so strong you want to shift our course for the island?" 

The diver grinned. "Not quite," he replied. 
"But if we get on his trail and it looks like Aves I'm 
for it." 

"Well, we'll soon know if he passed Statia," re- 
marked Tom. "We're almost there." 



CHAPTER II 
A CRY FOR HELP 

AS the destroyer drew into the little port of 
Orange Town, it seemed as if every inhabi- 
tant of the quaint Dutch island had come to 
the waterfront to welcome her, for the arrival of 
any ship, let alone a destroyer, was a remarkable 
event in Statia. Since the little warship was now 
visiting the island for the second time within a fort- 
night, the people felt as if their island must be be- 
coming famous. 

No sooner had the party landed from the cutter 
than Rawlins began questioning the natives in re- 
gard to the seaplane, but for some time no one could 
be found who had seen it. The diver was just 
about to give up and had declared his belief that the 
plane had not passed the island, when a gray-headed, 
broad^faced old man, whose yellow skin and kinky 
hair betokened negro blood and whose features and 
blue eyes were thoroughly Dutch, pushed through 
the crowd and told Rawlins he had seen the machine 
passing over. 

16 



A CRY FOR HELP 

To the diver's questions the old man replied that 
he had been working on his little plantation on the 
windward side of the island when he had heard a 
strange noise and, glancing up, had been amazed 
to see something like a huge bird flying far over- 
head. For a time he could not imagine what it was 
and then he remembered the pictures and accounts 
of airplanes he had seen in the illustrated papers 
that arrived at Statia at rare intervals and realized 
that he was actually gazing upon one of the mar- 
velous things which he had always half believed were 
impossible. In fact, he added, he had come to town 
for the sole purpose of relating his story to his 
friends, but all had scoffed at him and had declared 
he had been mistaken. 

"Not a bit of it!" cried Rawlins. "You saw one 
all right, my friend. What direction was the plane 
going?" 

The old man was not sure, for his mind had been 
so fully occupied with the wonder of the sight that 
he had not noted its course, but after a deal of think- 
ing he decided it had been bound for St. Kitts. 

"Well, that knocks out my theory about Aves a 
bit," declared Rawlins. "But there are plenty of 
spots around St. Kitts where he could have landed 

17 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

or he might have gone on to Nevis. Now let's get 
up to the hospital and see that old walrus of a 
Dutch captain." 

As they walked towards the tiny hospital, the 
boys expressed surprise that there seemed to be no 
damage from the hurricane. 

"Out of its track," explained Rawlins. "Re- 
member, I told you those hurricanes are narrow. 
Of course, there's got to be an edge to 'em some 
place, and besides, they follow pretty regular routes. 
I'll bet St. Kitts got it, and yet over here — only a 
few miles away — they never felt it." 

When they reached the hospital all hopes of se- 
curing information from the skipper of the tramp 
were abandoned, however, for the attendants told 
the Americans that the Dutch sea captain had been 
taken away the previous day by some friends who 
had called for him. 

"That's blamed funny!" exclaimed Rawlins. 
"They told me down in the town that no ship had 
been in port since the hurricane." 

"Hmm/' mused Mr. Pauling. "Perhaps they 
were friends living on the island." Then, turning 
to the young doctor who was in charge, he asked, 
"What sort of men were they? Can you describe 

18 



A CRY FOR HELP 

them? Did they mention how they arrived here?" 

"Why, no, I did not ask," replied the interne, who 
spoke perfect English. "I assumed they came in 
a vessel — small sloops and schooners often put in 
from St. Kitts and there are packets coming here 
from Curacao. They seemed to be seafaring men 
— ^not Hollanders, though. One was a heavily 
built man with a red beard — German or Russian 
I should say. The other was an American, I think 
— or possibly English — tall, and very broad, with 
a smooth face and dark hair." 

Mr. Pauling and the others glanced at one another 
with knowing looks, and an exclamation of surprise 
escaped from Mr. Pauling's lips. 

"I'll say they were his friends!" cried Rawlins, 
as the party, after thanking the doctor, left the hos- 
pital. "And not far away right now. Beat us by 
twenty-four hours, but, by glory, we've picked up 
their trail!" 

*^'But how could they get here?" asked Tom. 
"They didn't come in the airplane or by a ship." 

"By the sub, of course!" replied the diver. "I 

told you I'd bet she got clear before the old tramp 

blew up. And now they're hiking off to meet that 

plane." 

19 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"If they haven't already met her," put in Mr. 
Henderson. "Rawlins, I'm beginning to have as 
much faith in your hunches as Pauling." 

"Well, it's up to us to find out," insisted the diver. 
"It'll be a hard job to trail the sub, but as long as the 
High Cockalorum is up in the air, we can keep tabs 
on him. Let's get a move on and strike over to St. 
Kitts. The faster we get after those boys the better." 

"But how could the sub come in here without be- 
ing seen?" asked Frank. 

"Couldn't," responded Rawlins tersely, "but a 
small boat from her could. Or maybe they landed 
at St. Kitts and came over in a sloop. We'll find 
out down at the bayside." 

"That's one advantage of a small place where 
every one knows every one else and visitors are 
rare," remarked Mr. Pauling when, after a few ques- 
tions, they learned that the red-bearded stranger and 
his companion had arrived in a small schooner and 
had departed in the same vessel with the Dutch sea 
captain. 

"Yes, these islands are mighty poor places for 
crooks," agreed Mr. Henderson. "I imagine that's 
why every one is so honest and crime is so rare." 

A few moments later they reached the destroyer, 

20 



A CRY FOR HELP 

and as they stepped aboard Commander Disbrow ap- 
proached. 

"I have a bit of news that may interest you, Mr. 
Pauling," he announced. "We picked up the 
Guiana — Furness liner, you know — and had a chat 
with her. Never thought of getting any news of your 
man — ^just wanted data on the hurricane — and she 
reports having sighted an airplane, or rather a sea 
plane, to the south of Montserrat. Said they thought 
it a United States machine and tried to signal it but 
had no response. Reported it as flying south — ap- 
parently bound for Guadeloupe or Dominica and 
about three thousand feet up." 

"Bully for you!" Cried Rawlins enthusiastically. 
"That saves us a jaunt over to St. Kitts or Nevis. 
When did the Guiana sight it?" 

"About five o'clock last night," replied the Com- 
mander. 

"Then he was pretty near his landing place!" de- 
clared the diver. "He couldn't go on after dark. 
Come on, Commander, let's beat it for Guadeloupe!" 

Half an hour later Statia was scarcely more than a 
blue cloud on the horizon and St. Kitts loomed hazy 
and indistinct, while the towering conical volcanic 
cone of Nevis lay to the eastward. 

21 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

Although the boys had been disappointed at not 
being able to visit these fascinating islands, they had 
learned much about them from Rawlins and Com- 
mander Disbrow. They had heard about the aban- 
doned forts on Brimstone Hill at St. Kitts and about 
the troops of monkeys which haunt the old barracks 
and parapets. They had learned, also, for the first 
time in their lives, that Nevis was the birthplace of 
Alexander Hamilton and was famous as the spot 
where Admiral Nelson had been married. But such 
matters of historical interest appealed far less to the 
boys than Rawlins' story of the submerged city of 
Jamestown which was destroyed by an earthquake 
and sank below the sea in 1689. 

"Say, wouldn't it be fun to go down there in a div- 
ing suit and look around!" said Tom, when the 
diver had described how the coral-encrusted ruins 
could still be seen through the water on calm 
days. 

"Yep," agreed Rawlins. "I've often kind of hank- 
ered to have a look at it — and at Port Royal, over in 
Jamaica. That slid into the sea one day — with a 
lot of treasure in it, too. It used to be a regular 
hang-out for the pirates and the whole shooting match 
went under during an earthquake in 1692. Some 

22 



A CRY FOR HELP 

considerable spell of time since then, but I shouldn't 
wonder if a diver could find something there." 

"Gee, I wouldn't like to live down here where towns 
have the habit of getting drowned," declared Frank. 

Mr. Pauling laughed. "People who live in earth- 
quake or volcanic countries become accustomed to 
such things," he said. "Even St. Pierre, Martin- 
ique, where nearly forty thousand people were killed, 
is being built up and inhabited again, I hear." 

A little later, land was reported ahead and through 
their glasses the boys saw a rounded, gray mass 
breaking the sea line. This, the Commander told 
them, was Redonda, and he added that it was an 
isolated, barren rock, whose only inhabitants were 
the lighthouse keeper and a small company of labor- 
ers who were employed in gathering the phosphate 
rock. 

Then, beyond, and so green that, as Tom said, it 
looked like a bit of green velvet, the island of Mont- 
serrat gradually rose above the horizon before the 
speeding destroyer. 

"Gosh, that is an emerald isle!" exclaimed Frank. 

"Yes, and a little Ireland too," agreed Rawlins. 
"If you went ashore there, you'd think you were 
dreaming. Every one of the niggers speaks with a 

23 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

brogue and there are Mulvaneys and Dennises and 
Muldoons as black as the ace of spades and some of 
them with red hair. You see, Montserrat was set- 
tled originally by the Irish and the brogue and the 
names have come down through generations." 

"It seems to me we're leaving all the most inter- 
esting places without seeing them," said Frank re- 
gretfully. "I'd like mighty well to see Irish ne- 
groes." 

"You must remember we're neither on a pleasure 
cruise or a joy ride," Mr. Pauling reminded him. 
"And you're fortunate even to see the islands. 

Then, turning to Rawlins, he asked, "Have you 
definite plans in view, Rawlins? I suppose there is 
no use in stopping at Montserrat as long as the 
Guiana reported the plane south of there." 

"No, I'm going to ask you to let the Commander 
just hustle the old girl right along and radio Guade- 
loupe for information. He ought to be able to get 
it now. If they sighted the plane, we'll have to try 
Dominica, but {here's no radio station there and I'm 
still betting on Aves. You remember, about that 
looting of the bank at Dominica? Well, if they had 
a hang-out at Aves, that would have been dead easy. 
I think, imless we hear he passed Guadeloupe headed 

24 



A CRY FOR HELP 

away from it, that we'll hike to Aves without stop- 
ping." 

Mr. Pauling chuckled. "It seems to me that Hen- 
derson and I are scarcely more than accessories now," 
he declared. "Everything seems to have fallen into 
your hands. But that's quite right, Rawlins. You 
know the islands and we don't, and we're following 
your hunch, you know." 

A few moments later, Bancroft, the wireless oper- 
ator, appeared. "We got Guadeloupe, Sir," he in- 
formed Mr. Pauling. "They have no report of an 
airship." 

''By glory, then 'tis Aves!" cried Rawlins. "There 
isn't another spot he could have made before dark 
last night." 

"Unless he came down at some out of the way part 
of Guadeloupe," put in Mr. Henderson. "I've been 
talking with Disbrow and he says it's a wild, little 
known coast, with few inhabitants. 

"Yes," agreed the diver. "But I figure this way. 
That's not the first time the Old Boy has used a plane 
— and you can't grab a seaplane at any old time and 
place when the spirit moves you. No, he keeps that 
machine for emergencies or uses it as a regular thing 
between certain bases of his own and, even if he 

25 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

could make a landing at Guadeloupe or one of the 
inhabited islands without being seen, he couldn't 
keep the plane there unknown to any one. That's 
why I'm strong on the Aves hunch. He could have 
anything he wanted there, and none the wiser." 

"Your reasoning is sound," declared Mr. Pauling, 
"and I agree with you. When should we reach 
Aves?" 

"We could make it to-night," replied the Com- 
mander, to whom Mr. Pauling had addressed the last 
query, "but I'd prefer to slow down and make it by 
daybreak — its a mere speck and scarcely ten feet 
above water and there's a risk in running for it in the 
dark." 

"Yes, by all means, wait for dawn," assented Mr. 
Pauling. "We could accomplish nothing at night and 
if there are men there, our lights might warn 
them." 

Accordingly, the destroyer slowed down and with 
the vast bulk of Guadeloupe stretching for miles along 
the eastern horizon, the little vessel slid easily through 
the sea towards her goal. As usual, Bancroft or one 
of the boys constantly listened at the radio receivers, 
but no sounds, save the messages passing between 
two distant merchant ships, came in. 

26 



A CRY FOR HELP 

With the first faint streaks of light upon the east- 
ern sky, the destroyer picked up speed and tore souths 
ward for the tiny speck of land that lay below the 
horizon ahead. The forward gun was manned and 
ready for emergencies; the two boys and their com- 
panions peered anxiously through the gray dawn for 
a first glimpse of the sought-for islet, and all thrilled 
with expectancy and excitement. 

"There 'tis!" cried Rawlins, who was the first to 
catch a glimpse of the tiny gray smudge that broke 
the even level of the sea's rim. 

Instantly, all glasses were focused on the spot 
and rapidly it rose and took form as a low, flat-topped 
bit of land, rimmed with white surf and with clouds 
of sea birds wheeling above it. So low was the island 
that within half an hour of first sighting it, the de- 
stroyer was as close to it as the Commander dared 
approach and all were anxiously searching the deso- 
late spot for some sign of life or of the plane. 

"Looks as if your hunch were wrong for once, 
Rawlins," said Mr. Pauling. "I don't see a sign of 
anything but bare rock and birds." 

"Well, it's all- fired funny," declared the diver, 
"but I'm not sure even yet. Maybe the plane's on 
the other side of the island or in some cove. I won't 

27 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

be satisfied until I've searched every inch of the 
place." 

But when, a few minutes later, they landed upon 
this isolated, almost unknown bit of forsaken land 
and were almost deafened by the screams, cries, and 
protests of the countless thousands of gulls, terns, 
gannets, pelicans and boobies that made it their home, 
the island seemed absolutely devoid of all traces of 
human beings. Rawlins, however, insisted there 
was no other place where the sea plane could have 
found a resting place for the night and he searched 
here, there and everywhere. 

Finally, when the party had almost completed the 
circuit of the little ten-acre spot, the diver, who was 
in advance, gave a shout. 

"I'll say they were here!" he announced as the 
others hurried to where he stood at the head of a 
deep indentation or cove in the rocky shore. ''Look 
here," he continued, pointing to the bit of sandy 
beach, "a boat's been pulled up on the sand here with- 
in the last twenty-four hours and there are their empty 
gasolene tins. Guess my hunch wasn't so far wrong 
after all." 

"Hmm," muttered Mr. Pauling, as he examined the 
marks on the beach and sniffed at the empty tin cans. 

28 



A CRY FOR HELP 



'*ril have to admit your hunch was right, but it 
doesn't do us much good. Our birds have flown." 

"Yes, hang it all!" exclaimed Rawlins. "They 
probably saw us coming and cleared out, but they'll 
have to land again somewhere." 

"That's quite true and all very well," agreed Mr. 
Pauling, "but we haven't the least idea where or 
when. No, it's no use trying to chase all over the 
Caribbean after them. There's nothing to do but go 
back and await future developments. I'm willing 
to admit we've been beaten." 

"Yes, the gang's broken up and the tramp and their 
big submarine destroyed. I doubt if they'll give 
further trouble," said Mr. Henderson. "I think 
we've succeeded in accomplishing a great deal as it 



• 99 

IS. 



While they were talking, they approached the 
waiting cutter. Suddenly a screeching roar from 
the destroyer's siren drowned the clamor of the 
birds. 

"Jove! What's that for?" exclaimed Mr. Hender- 
son. "Hello, Disbrow's signaling. Can you read 
the wigwag message, Rawlins?" 

The diver stared fixedly at the figure of a sailor 
standing clearly outlined on the destroyer's bridge 

29 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

and rapidly waving the little flags in an endeavor to 
convey some message to those on the island. 

"Come a-b-o-a-r-d," translated Rawlins, as the flags 
flashed up and down. "I-m-p-o-r-t-a-n-t n-e-w-s." 

"By glory!" he ejaculated, as the sailor finished 
and the message ended. "What in blazes has he 
seen?" 

Rapidly, they hurried to the boat, scrambled in, 
and were soon speeding towards the destroyer, all 
impatient to learn what had occurred to cause them 
to be summoned and utterly at a loss as to what the 
"important news" could be. 

"Great Scott, but he's in a hurry!" cried Rawlins, 
as the sound of the anchor winch and the rattle of 
incoming cable reached them. "He's getting in his 
anchors already. And he's pacing up and down as 
if the deck were red hot. I wonder what's up!" 

"It's an S. 0. S.!" announced the Commander, as 
Mr. Pauling gained the deck, "and it might mean 
anything. Came in 'S. 0. S — submarine' and then 
stopped short. Not another word." 

Before he had ceased speaking, the destroyer's 
screws were churning the water and the island was 
rapidly slipping away. 

"By Jove!" exclaimed Mr. Pauling. "Looks as 

30 



A CRY FOR HELP 

if these men were up to their old game! But where 
was the ship when she called? Do you know her 
position?" 

"No, only in a general way," replied the Com- 
mander. "Bancroft got the message by accident — 
was overhauling the radio compass when he 
picked it up. That's the only way we know 
even the direction. They're southwest, that's all we 
know." 

"I'll say that's important news!" cried Rawlins. 
"That shows the sub's still afloat, but I'd like to 
know what the dickens became of the plane." 

"Do you think they really sank a ship?" asked 
Tom. "Why, they can't expect to get away with 
that sort of thing!" 

"Of course, they did," declared Mr. Pauling. 
"Otherwise the vessel would not have sent the S. 0. 
S. and the very fact that the message was cut off 
shows they did. Poor fellows! They never had a 
chance and we may be too late to save them now. As 
for getting away with it, these men are desperate — - 
utterly unprincipled, as you know. Nothing they 
can do will make their plight any worse. They've 
sunk ships before — so why not again?" 

"But why should they?" persisted Tom. "I should 

31 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

think they'd just be trying to get away, not stopping 
to sink ships." 

"That's what I've been thinking," declared Raw- 
lins. "The whole thing's blamed funny. I've a 
hunch it's all a blind. I'll bet that message was sent 
by the sub or the plane just to get us away from 
here — or something." 

"Hunches or not, I'm not taking chances," declared 
the Commander stiffly. "If I get an S. 0. S. I 
answer." 

"Righto!" exclaimed the diver. "Glad you do. 
And, if luck's with us, we may get there in time to 
sight the sub and kill two birds with one stone." 

But to find a ship or its survivors when its exact 
latitude and longitude are known and to find such a 
tiny speck upon the broad ocean when only its gen- 
eral direction is known are two very different mat- 
ters. So meager had been the sudden call for aid 
which had reached the destroyer that no one could 
say whether the ship that sent it had been five or 
fifty miles away and as there had been no time in 
which to move the loop antenna of the radio compass 
about until the exact direction was determined, the 
chances of the destroyer's finding the vessel or any 
of her company were very remote. Throughout the 

32 



A CRY FOR HELP 

day and all through the night the destroyer searched, 
steaming in circles and with her powerful search- 
lights sweeping the sea. 

In the hopes that another signal might yet come 
in, men were kept constantly at the radio instruments 
listening and sending forth messages, but the only 
replies received were from far distant ships asking 
what the trouble was. To all of these the operators 
gave what little information they had and asked if 
others had heard the frenzied call for help. But only 
one had, a tramp bound from Cuba for Curacao, 
and unlike the destroyer she had received the S. 0. S. 
by her regular antenna and so could not know the 
direction whence it came. 

"Well, some of those ships may pick up the poor 
rascals," said Mr. Henderson when on the following 
morning Commander Disbrow reported the messages 
which had been exchanged. "But it's odd none of 
them heard the call except that tramp." 

"I think that proves the vessel was near us," de- 
clared Tom. "If Mr. Bancroft got it on the loop 
and they couldn't hear it on their regular aerials, 
the message must have been sent from very 
close." 

"Yes, that's quite true," agreed Mr. Henderson. 

33 



KADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

*'But it doesn't make matters much simpler. Even 
a few square miles of sea is a big place." 

"You said it!" exclaimed Rawlins. "And a 
blamed sight bigger to the poor beggars hanging 
on to wreckage or in a small boat than to us. But 
I still have an idea it was a blind. That would ac- 
count for those ships not getting it." 
"I don't just see what you mean," said Mr. Pauling. 

"Why, if it was sent from the sub or the plane, 
it would be a weak message and wouldn't go far 
and it may have been sent from within half a mile 
of the island. Yes, by glory! — Come to think of it, 
they might have been right there alongside and just 
sent that message from underwater!" 

"Jove, I hadn't thought of that!" admitted Mr. 
Pauling. "I wonder — ^" 

Before he could complete his sentence, the deep- 
throated cry of the lookout rang through the little 
ship, and at his words all crowded to the rails and 
peered ahead. 

"Small boat two points off the starboard bow!" 
was the sailor's shout. 



CHAPTER III 
THE CASTAWAYS 

VERY small and pitiful appeared the tiny 
speck bobbing up and down upon that wide 
expanse of restless sea in the faint morn- 
ing light. But rapidly it took on form as the des- 
troyer slid hissing through the sparkling water toward 
it. Through their glasses the boys could see that it 
was a ship's lifeboat filled with men and that one of 
the occupants was standing up and wildly waving a 
bit of cloth fastened to an oar. 

"I'll say they're mighty glad to see us!" exclaimed 
Rawlins. "By gravy, it makes me think of war 
times again! Confound those sneaking Bolsheviks, 
they're as bad as the Huns." 

"Worse," declared Mr. Pauling tersely. "The 
Germans had the excuse of war and these rascals are 
merely cutthroats. I wonder if this boat's the only 
one that escaped." 

We'll know in a moment," said Mr. Henderson. 
Lucky we found them — there wasn't one chance in 

35 



6i 
6i 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

a million. Things like this make the most skeptical 
believe in the Almighty." 

"And the fact that that bunch on the sub get away 
with it makes a fellow believe in Satan as well," 
supplemented the diver. 

A moment later the destroyer's engines ceased to 
throb; she slipped gently through the waves, and 
presently was resting motionless, rising and falling, 
while the ocean castaways bent to the oars and 
pulled around in her lee. 

Then a coil of line spun from the hands of a 
waiting bluejacket, the man in the bow of the life- 
boat caught it and the next instant the haggard-faced 
occupants of the little craft were being helped over 
the destroyer's rail. 

There were twenty-two in all — a motley, cosmo- 
politan lot, the typical crew of a modern steamship. 
Tow-headed, broad-faced Scandinavians; sallow, 
black-haired, blue-cheeked Spaniards, whose greasy 
trousers and grimy faces marked them as wipers, 
firemen and engine room crew; a few swarthy Ital- 
ians; one or two who might have been of almost any 
nationality; two colored men; and a broad-shoul- 
dered, ruddy-faced individual with keen, pale blue 
eyes who was evidently in command. 

36 



THE CASTAWAYS 

"Strike me pink, but we're lucky beggars!" ex- 
claimed the latter, as he leaped on to the de- 
stroyer's deck. 

"Are you the captain?" asked Commander Dis- 
brow. "Glad to have saved you. We got your 
radio yesterday morning, but had little chance of 
finding you. More luck than anything else. All 
your crew accounted for?" 

The Englishman drew himself up and saluted in 
true naval style. "No, Sir,' he exclaimed. "I'm 
the chief officer, ship Devonshire, Liverpool for Trin- 
idad and Demerara. Captain Masters lost 'is life, 
Sir — defending 'is ship. Sir." 

"Brave man!" exclaimed Mr. Pauling. "Went 
down with his ship, I suppose." 

The Englishman turned and looked at him in 
surprise. "Whatever do you mean. Sir?" he ex- 
claimed. "Bless us, the ship wasn't sunk. Sir. 
Captain Masters was shot down on his bridge, 
Sir." 

"The ship wasn't sunk!" cried Mr. Pauling. 
"Then why are you adrift in a small boat and 
why did you send an S. 0. S. and what did occur? 
Come, let's get this matter straightened out at 



once! 



37 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"The ship was took, Sir. Made a prize of by the 
bloody submarine — begging your pardon for the 
word, Sir. It was this way, Sir. The dirty beggars 
never gave us arf a chance — played a dirty Hun 
trick on us, the swine! You see. Sir, we sighted a 
drifting boat full of men and bore down and took 
them abroad, Sir, and no sooner were they over the 
rail than they whips out their revolvers and orders 
our 'ands up. Blow me for a bloomin' fish if we 
wasn't took that by surprise. Sir, that we does it. 
Sir. All but the Captain and 'Sparks.' They were 
looking on — you know all hands always crowds the 
rails to see what's going on when a boat's picked up. 
Sir — and it was all over in a minute. No sooner 
had they stuck us up than the bloomin' sub bobs up. 
With that we was all aback and that dazed, with the 
suddenness of it and the sub and all, that we don't 
rightly know what to make of it. Sir. And then 
'Sparks' makes a dash for his room and Captain 
Masters fires at the dirty swine just as one of them 
jumps after 'Sparks.' I see, poor 'Sparks' stagger 
and lurch into his door and the bloomin' beggar what 
shot him drops and the next second there's a rifle 
shot from the sub and Captain Masters springs up 
and pitches into the sea. Sir. You say you got a 

38 



THE CASTAWAYS 

radio from the ship, Sir? Then 'Sparks' must 'ave 
got it off before he died, Sir." 

"Yes, yes!" cried Mr. Pauling. "That accounts 
for the message ending half finished ; but go on, what 
happened after the captain and the operator were 
shot?" 

"Why, the blinkin' bloomin' devils just lined us 
up and ordered us into a boat and sent a crew abroad 
the Devonshire from the sub. And just afore they 
steamed off an left us. Sir, strike me purple hif a 
bloomin' airplane didn't show up! Blow me, but I 
thought we was saved, Sir. But instead of savin' of 
us the blighted plane parses us by and goes along of 
the ship. Sir, and there we was adrift in an open 
boat with only a gallon of water and no provisions 
and no compass and a makin' up our minds to face 
death and old Davy Jones like proper British sea- 
man — though only five of us was British — ^when we 
sights your little ship. Sir." 

"What course did they steer?" snapped out Com- 
mander Disbrow. 

"About south by east — as near as I could judge 
by the sun, Sir," replied the officer. 

The next instant, sharp, quick orders had been 
given, and, as if shot from a bow, the destroyer 

39 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

leaped into sudden speed and surged through the 
sea towards the south. 

Then, as the rescued men were half starved and 
worn out, the questions which Mr. Pauling and his 
friends were so anxious to ask were put off until the 
latest victims of the dastardly "reds" could be fed 
and rested. 

Twenty-four hours in an open boat, (twelve of 
them under a blazing tropical sun), without food 
and with but a gallon of water for twenty-two men, 
might kill the average landsmen, but the survivors 
of the Devonshire seemed to be affected very little 
by the hardships of their experience and declared 
that a hearty meal and a few hours' rest were all 
they needed to make them "perfectly fit" as Robin- 
son, the chief -officer, put it. 

While they were resting, Mr. Pauling and his 
companions were busily discussing this latest ex- 
ploit of the men they were trying to run down and 
by deduction and reasoning were striving to fathom 
the "reds" object in taking possession of the Devon- 
shire as well as their next moves. 

"My opinion is that they are making for some 
port in order to escape unsuspected," declared Mr. 
Henderson. "They had no refuge they could reach 

40 



THE CASTAWAYS 

in the submarine or seaplane when they found us 
hot on their trail and approaching Aves. But by 
steaming boldly into port with a freight steamer, 
they could then desert and scatter without arousing 
suspicions until they had disappeared." 

"That's my idea also," affirmed Mr. Pauling. 
"But I'm at a loss to understand why they should 
continue to use the plane. If that appeared at any 
port, it would at once attract attention. I should 
have imagined that they would have sunk it or de- 
stroyed it and would all have taken to the Devon- 
shire/^ 

"Perhaps they did — later," suggested Mr. Hender- 
son, "but they cannot escape us. They have only 
twenty-four hours' start, we can make twice the 
freighter's speed, and the nearest port is a good 
thirty-six or forty hours' run in the direction they 
steamed." 

"Yes, but don't count on their keeping that 
course," said Rawlins. "They're foxy guys and 
they may have steered south by east just to fool 
those boys in the boat. As soon as hull down they 
may have swung to east or west — or even turned on 
their tracks and headed north. Darned funny they 
were decent enough not to murder the whole crew. 

41 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

And my idea about the plane is that they're using 
her for a scout to warn them of other ships. From 
a few thousand feet up, the pilot of the plane can 
spot a ship way below the horizon and the Devon- 
shire can keep clear of 'em. Why, by glory! 
they could probably spot us and know we're fol- 
lowing them. I'll say we've got some job cut out 
for us, if we're going to try to run 'em down. And 
when it gets dark they can slip away, easy as is. 
Now I don't want to butt in all the time, but my idea 
would be to fight them with their own weapons — 
play their own game and fool 'em. If we shift 
our course as if we'd given up or were on the 
wrong track and send out a few fake radio mes- 
sages, they'll think we've given up and they'll beat it 
for some port. Then, by tipping off the port au- 
thorities, they can nab the bunch when they ar- 
rive." 

"Hmm," muttered Mr. Pauling. "A very good 
plan, Rawlins, except for one or two flaws in it. For 
example, if we tip off the authorities, what is to 
prevent those on the Devonshire from hearing the 
messages and acting accordingly? And if we don't 
know the course they're actually taking, how can we 
shift ours in such a way as to make them feel sure 

42 



THE CASTAWAYS 

we have abandoned the ehase? Finally, how will 
we know what port they intend entering? They 
might sail for Europe or Asia or the South Seas, for 
all we know." 

"Well, you've stumped me on the first question, 
I admit," chuckled the diver. "That's your busi- 
ness Mr. Pauling — have to use some cipher I sup- 
pose. But the others are easy. If we send radio 
messages to some nearby port that we're coming 
in — asking to have supplies or stores ready, for 
instance — those Bolsheviks will bite all right. And 
as far as knowing what port they'll head for is con- 
cerned, if they think they're not being chased they'll 
go to the port where there's the least danger and 
that's where the ship's papers are made out for — 
Trinidad or Demerara." 

"By Jove! I don't know but what you're right," 
exclaimed Mr. Pauling. "I think I can arrange the 
cipher messages — in fact, in confidence, I can let 
you know that a code was all arranged long before 
we left St. Thomas. Every executive of every Brit- 
ish and French colony down here knows it. We 
had reasons for not giving it to the Dutch in view of 
the suspicious actions of that Dutch tramp — and I'll 
guarantee if the Devonshire puts into any British or 

43 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

French port, our piratical 'reds' will find they've 
stepped into a trap that's set and baited." 

By the time Robinson reappeared on deck, look- 
ing a very different being from the haggard, dull- 
eyed seaman who had been rescued from the Devon- 
shire s boat, Mr. Pauling had conferred with Com- 
mander Disbrow and plans had been made in 
accordance with Rawlins' suggestion. Robinson, 
when told of this, agreed with the diver that doubt- 
less the "reds" intended sailing the Devonshire 
boldly into some port and then slipping away, one 
at a time. He also declared that he believed they 
would steam for either Trinidad or Demerara, as the 
ship's papers were made out for those ports. In 
order to consult with him and secure his opinions, 
it was of course necessary to acquaint him somewhat 
with the activities of the fugitives, but he asked no 
questions and made no effort to learn more of Mr. 
Pauling's mission than the latter saw fit to divulge. 

"Was the Devonshire ever in Trinidad or Demer- 
ara, Mr. Robinson?" inquired Mr. Pauling. "That 
is, with Captain Masters and the other officers in 
command?" 

"Not as far as I know," replied the other. "I've 
been on her for three years and this is my first trip 

44 



THE CASTAWAYS 

out here. She's always been in the East Indian 
trade heretofore." 

"Ah, then that makes it still easier for the ras- 
cals," commented Mr. Pauling. "They can readily 
pass themselves off for the ship's officers. By the 
way, can you describe the appearance of any of the 
men who boarded the ship?" 

"Strike me, Sir, but I was too struck 'twixt wind 
and water to take note of their appearance," declared 
the officer. "I do remember one who appeared to 
be in command, however — a big chappie with a 
red beard." 

"That's the one!" cried Rawlins. "By glory, I'd 
like to get my hands on him!" 

"So would I, old thing," declared Robinson. 
"But why the bally pirates let us free is a stumper 
for me. They might have known some ship might 
pick us up and we'd give the bloomin' gaff away." 

"Yes, that is a puzzle," agreed Mr. Henderson, 
"but I suppose even men of their type have a limit 
to the murders they commit." 

It had been decided to make for Dominica, partly 
because it was the nearest British island and the 
survivors of the Devonshire could be cared for there, 
and partly because Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson 

45 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

were anxious to see and talk with the officials re- 
garding the looting of the bank, which had occured 
some time before and which they believed had been 
done by the same gang of rascals they were trailing. 

By the middle of the afternoon land was sighted, 
an opalescent, hazy mass topped by great banks of 
clouds and looking, as Tom expressed it, "more like 
a dream island than real land." 

As the destroyer drew rapidly nearer and sky- 
piercing peaks, vast blue gorges, endless forest-clad 
mountains, and wonderful golden-green valleys 
appeared, it looked more and more like a dream or 
a phantasy, for the boys could hardly believe that 
anything real could be so beautiful. Still it was far 
away and as the little warship slid smoothly through 
the incredibly blue sea that showed scarcely a wave 
in the massive island's lee, the boys stood gazing 
steadfastly at this most picturesque and lovely of 
all the lovely Caribbean islands. 

"Gosh, but I'm glad we decided to come here!" 
exclaimed Frank as Rawlins joined them at the rail. 
"When you told us back at Statia that St. Kitts 
couldn't compare with Dominica I thought you were 
just joking, but gee, this is simply wonderful!" 

"I'll say 'tis!" replied the diver. "Every time I 

46 



THE CASTAWAYS 

see it I get a new thrill. And you'll find it mighty 
interesting, too. It was right off Dominica that 
Rodney licked the French and changed the history 
of the West Indies. There's a mountain lake in a 
crater and an active volcano called the Boiling Lake 
here and over on the other side there's an Indian 
settlement where the last pure-blooded Caribs in the 
West Indies live." 

"Oh, I do hope we stay long enough to see some 
of the place!" cried Tom. 

"Why couldn't we have been here instead of at 
St. Thomas or St. John?" 

"Perhaps, if you'd radioed the skipper of the Dutch 
tramp or the red-bearded chap, they might have 
accomodated you and come here," laughed Mr. 
Pauling who had approached. "But, joking aside, 
I'd like to see more of Dominica myself. It's cer- 
tainly a glorious sight." 

"What do they raise here?" asked Mr. Hender- 
son, who had also joined the group. 

"Limes mostly," replied Rawlins. "The famous 
Rose lime juice all comes from Dominica. Father 
used to come here regularly for green limes and 
juice. It's the biggest lime producing country in 

the world, I've heard him say." 

47 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"Oh, I see the town!" cried Frank. "Right there 
at the mouth of that big valley!" 

"Yes, that's Roseau," said Rawlins. "Not much 
of a town, but with a mighty fine botanic station. 
And you'll find the natives interesting, too. Lots of 
them still wear the old creole dress and they all speak 
a queer Frenchy sort of lingo called Patois." 

"Why, I thought it was an English island," ex- 
claimed Tom. 

"So 'tis," the diver assured him. "But lots of the 
people don't speak English. It's been French and 
British by turn and it's between two French islands — 
Guadeloupe and Martinique — and the country people 
and most of the town's people are more French than 
British." 

The island was now in plain view and as the sun 
sank into the west, the great masses of clouds above 
the deep green mountains turned slowly to gold and 
then to rosy pink; the vast gorges and ravines took 
on shades of violet and deep purple; the sea appeared 
like a sheet of amethyst, and as the destroyer slowly 
lost headway and her anchor plunged overboard, a 
magnificent rainbow sprang as if by magic from 
mountain side to mountain side, spanning the valley 
with a multicolored bridge. 

48 



THE CASTAWAYS 

Even before the destroyer's anchor had splashed 
into the sea and the rattle and roar of her chains 
echoed from the hills, she was surrounded by a flo- 
tilla of gayly painted small boats. Some were or- 
dinary rowboats, but many were queer-looking little 
craftj like big canoes with projecting bows like the 
rams of old style warships and one and all were 
manned by pleasant-faced, brown-skinned natives 
who gabbled and chattered in a strange, utterly un- 
intelligible jargon. But before the boys had more 
than a glimpse of the boats and their occupants, they 
were forced to scurry under cover, as from a clear 
sky rain poured down in torrents, blotting out the 
distant mountains and veiling the near-by quay and 
town with a white curtain. 

"Golly!" exclaimed Tom. "It's pouring cats and 
dogs and there wasn't a cloud overhead." 

Rawlins laughed. "That's Dominica all right!" 
he replied. "Rainiest spot in the world, I guess. 
My father used to say they measured the rainfall 
here by yards and not by inches." 

"But how can it rain when there are no clouds?" 
persisted Tom, to whom this phenomenon was most 
mystifying. 

"I think I can explain that," volunteered Com- 

49 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

mander Disbrow. "It's the moisture laden air from 
tlie Atlantic blowing across these forest-covered 
mountains. The moisture is condensed and falls as 
rain before it has time to gather in a vapor and 
form clouds. I've seen the same thing in the 
Azores." 

But now the rain had ceased as abruptly as it had 
begun and presently the ship's cutter was in the water. 
Five minutes later the boys stepped ashore at the 
little stone $nd concrete pier. 

While Mr. Pauling, Mr. Henderson and Com- 
manded Disbrow turned up the hill towards Govern- 
ment House, the two boys and Rawlins strolled 
through the quaint little town and entered the big 
botanic station. Never had Tom and Frank been 
so delighted or so enthusiastic over new and strange 
sights as in Roseau, for it was utterly unlike anything 
they had ever seen or imagined. The chattering 
colored women in their long, trailing, stiffly starched, 
gaudy dresses with brilliant silk foulards or kerchiefs 
about their necks and their jaunty, rainbow-hued 
turbans gave a very foreign, out-of-the-world effect 
to the spot. The narrow cobbled streets, with the 
open ditches, filled with swiftly flowing water; the 
French names over the shops and stores; and the 

50 



THE CASTAWAYS 

wooden houses with outjutting balconies forming 
shelters for great casks of lime juice, trays of cacao 
beans, and diminutive native ponies — all lent a most 
picturesque touch to the place. The boys even de- 
clared that the miserable huts with their walls made 
partly from discarded kerosene tins and rusty cor- 
rugated iron and which were oddly sandwiched in 
between the good buildings only added to the attrac- 
tions of the little town. 

But when they reached the gardens and strolled 
along the perfectly kept drives and walks between 
broad green lawns dotted with every imaginable 
tropic shrub, palm, and flower, and wandered 
through dark avenues of clove, nutmeg and cinnamon 
trees, with the air heavy with the mingled odors of 
orchids, jasmine and spices, they could not find words 
to express their appreciation. 

"Gee, a fellow could wander here for a week and 
not see it all!" declared Tom. 

"And say, wouldn't it be just great to ride up that 
valley into the mountains?" cried Frank. "Golly, 
it looks wild and interesting." 

"It is," Rawlins assured him. "Maybe you'll 
have a chance to try it. You can go to the Moun- 
tain lake and back in a day and anyway you can climb 

51 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

up Morne Bruce here to-morrow morning and have 
a fine view of the valley." 

Reluctantly, the boys turned back and taking a 
diflferent route through the town, reached the waiting 
boat. To the boys' intense delight, although their 
elders chafed at the delay, Mr. Pauling told them 
that he planned to stay in Dominica to await expected 
news of the Devonshire's arrival at Trinidad or Dem- 
erara and that he had no objection to their proposed 
ride up the valley as it would be impossible for the 
Devonshire to reach port within the next twenty-four 
hours. 

As a result, the enthusiastic boys could scarcely 
wait to eat breakfast the next morning, but hurried 
ashore with Rawlins and found the ponies, which 
the diver had ordered through one of the native 
boatmen the night before, waiting for them. 

Even their boyish imaginations had never 
prepared them for the beauties, the constant surprises, 
the strangeness and the interests of that ride. They 
passed for miles beside the tumbling, roaring river 
through endless lime orchards; they climbed steep 
grades that wound around hillsides glorious with 
masses of brilliant flowers; they rode under arches 
of giant bamboos rising fifty feet above their heads, 

52 



THE CASTAWAYS 

and as they mounted higher the way led through 
forests of stupendous trees, enormous tree ferns, and 
tangled, cablelike lianas, where even at midday, it 
was like twilight. Often the narrow road wound 
around the verges of terrific precipices and, invol- 
untarily, the boys shuddered and drew back as the 
sure-footed mountain ponies picked their way so close 
to the brink that stones, dislodged by their passage, 
went crashing down to the dark forest a thousand feet 
beneath. Sometimes too, they halted for brief rests 
and listened to the flute-like songs of the "mountain 
whistler" or watched humming birds flashing like 
living gems among the flowers of orchids or begonias. 

Then at last they came out upon the topmost moun- 
tain ridge and as the heavy mist, which Rawlins told 
them was a cloud, drifted away, they looked upon a 
vast sea of forest-covered mountains with a glimmer- 
ing little lake nestled among the verdure in a 
bowl-like crater at their feet. Here, above the clouds, 
they ate their lunch and, heedless of the drenching 
rain, returned down the mountains late in the after- 
noon. As they came out upon the waterfront, they 
saw smoke pouring from the funnels of the destroyer. 

"Holy mackerel!" exclaimed Rawlins. "They 
must have heard something. They've got steam up." 

53 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

Scarcely had the three scrambled into the waiting 
cutter, when the little craft was speeding towards the 
destroyer and to Rawlins' questions the petty officer 
in command replied that the Commander was only 
awaiting their arrival before sailing. 

No sooner had the cutter left the dock than the roar 
of the winch engines and the incoming cable told of 
the anchor coming in, and SQaucely were the diver 
and the two boys over the little ship's side and the 
cutter hooked to the davit falls before the destroyer 
was forging ahead and making for the open sea. 

"What's up?" cried Rawlins as he gained the deck. 
"Get a message?" 

"Yes, an hour ago," replied Mr. Pauling. "Here 
it is." 

The diver and the two boys glanced eagerly over 
the slip, and read: ^'Devonshire and crew held ac- 
cording to request. May, Inspector Police. Port 
of Spain." 

"Hurrah!" cried the boys in unison. "They're 
caught!" 

"I'll say they are!" exclaimed Rawlins. "Walked 
right into our trap!" 



CHAPTER IV 
MORE MYSTERIES 

OF course, every one was highly elated at 
the successful outcome of the ruse which 
Rawlins had suggested and all felt that 
at last the long chase was over, that the leaders of 
the gang of "reds" were prisoners under lock and 
key at Trinidad, and that soon the destroyer would 
be homeward bound with her mission successfully 
accomplished. And no one was more pleased at 
the outcome than Robinson, the chief officer of the 
Devonshire. At the suggestion of the officials in Dom- 
inica, it had been decided to keep him and his men 
on the destroyer until definite news was received 
of his ship's whereabouts when, as he had pointed 
out to Mr. Pauling and Commander Disbrow, he and 
his men could be put aboard the Devonshire and 
could again assume the duties which had been so 
tragically interrupted by the rascals from the sub- 
marine. Moreover, as the Administrator of Dom- 
inica had reminded Mr. Pauling, the presence of 

55 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

Robinson and his men would be needed at whatever 
port the Devonshire was held, in order to identify 
the pirates and to testify to the facts. 

And now, knowing that he would soon be back on 
his own ship and would have an opportunity of tell- 
ing his story to the British authorities and would 
have the satisfaction of seeing the murderers of Cap- 
tain Masters and the radio operator receive their 
just punishment, Robinson and his men were, if pos- 
sible, more elated than Mr. Pauling and his party. 

"It means hangin' for the bally blighters!" he de- 
clared. "Piracy 'twas — no less — and though I've 
never been to a hangin' yet, it would do me good to 
go to theirs — when I think of Captain Masters and 
poor 'Sparks' shot down in cold blood." 

"Yes, they richly deserve it," agreed Mr. Pauling. 
"But I'm afraid punishment for this crime will rob 
us of the chance to punish them for the other crimes 
they have committed. However, it makes little dif- 
ference what government deals with them, I suppose." 

"Yes, you may be sure the British are not going 
to give them up," declared Mr. Henderson. "We 
may think our English cousins slow in some things, 
but British laws and British justice are inexorable as 
yfell as swift and these rascals will curse the day they 

56 



MORE MYSTERIES 

ran their stolen ship into a British port. Better for 
them had they given themselves up to us." 

"I suppose we'd better send a message to Trinidad 
saying we're coming and have the Devonshire's crew 
and chief officer aboard," said Mr. Pauling. "I 
should have done it before. No need of cipher now. 
Just see Bancroft, Rawlins, and give him this 
message," 

Presently the diver returned, a frown on his face. 
"He can't send it, Mr. Pauling," he announced. 
"Something's wrong with his instruments. He says 
they went wrong just after we got the message this 
morning and he can't locate the trouble. Just as 
soon as he gets the things fixed, he'll shoot it 
off." 

"Too bad," exclaimed Mr. Pauling, "but there's 
really no hurry. Lucky it didn't happen when we 
had really important matters to send — for example, 
when we notified the officials of the Devonshire's 
seizure." 

''And if he doesn't get his set fixed, we can send 
with ours, when we get nearer," said Tom. 

"To be sure!" assented his father. "I'd almost 
forgotten that — it's been so long since you boys were 
called upon." 

57 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

Interested as they were in everything pertaining 
to radio, the two boys hurried to the radio room and 
found Bancroft busy at his instruments and thoroughly 
exasperated. 

"It's just got my goat!" he exclaimed, as he glanced 
up at the boys' arrival. "I never ran up against any- 
thing like it. I've been over the antenna and the 
insulation, and I've worked back to the inductance 
and the condensers. Everything seems ship-shape 
and yet the whole blamed thing seems dead. Cur- 
rent's all right, I've tried new tubes, and the wave 
meter and ammeter tests are 0. K. and yet I can't 
get a blessed reply." 

"Well, that doesn't prove you're not sending," de- 
clared Tom. "How do you know the trouble isn't 
in the station you're trying to get? Maybe your 
messages are going out all right and they get them 
but can't send back." 

"Oh, I'm not such a boob as not to think of that!" 
retorted Bancroft. "I've tried four different stations 
and not a reply from any. And the radio compass 
is in the same fix. It's downright uncanny, I tell 
you. Look here! The filament oscillates and the 
ammeter registers and yet I'll bet there isn't 
a wave going out. It's just as if the thing were short 

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MORE MYSTERIES 

circuited somewhere, 'but I can swear it's not. I've 
even hooked up a whole new set." 

"Say, I've an idea to test it and be sure you're 
not sending," cried Tom. "I'll go over to the radio* 
compass and listen and you send and see if I hear 
anything. Then I'll send and see if you can hear. 
If there's even a trace of waves, we ought to get 
them at a few yards away." 

"That's a great scheme," agreed Bancroft enthusi- 
astically. "And say, I wonder if your sets are all 
right." 

"We'll try them too, after we do this," said Tom 
as he left the room. 

But Tom's scheme was a dismal failure. Althougk 
the set at the radio compass seemed in perfect work- 
ing order, he could detect no sign of a message from 
Bancroft's instruments a few yards away and wheni 
he returned to the wireless room, Bancroft reported 
that he had heard nothing. 

"Well, that does beat the Dutch," declared Tom. 
"Now I'm going to test our sets. Perhaps everything's 
hoodooed. You go to the radio compass, Frank, 
and Mr. Bancroft can stay here and I'll go to our sets 
and we'll try to get some sound or to send. If they're 
all dead, it must be some atmospheric trouble. Per- 

59 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

haps the air's full of electricity or something." 

"Whew!" exclaimed Bancroft, "That gives me an 
idea! Perhaps it's due to that volcano over at Mar- 
tinique — Mt. Pelee you know, the one that destroyed 
St. Pierre. It's still active and it's only a few miles 
from Dominica. If I could only get some dope 
from the station at Fort de France I could find 
out." 

"I don't know," replied Tom. "I read somewhere 
that active volcanoes did all sorts of queer things 
to ships' compasses and if they affect magnets, I 
don't see why they shouldn't aifect radio instruments. 
But if that's it, then it's mighty funny you got the 
message this morning." 

"But I didn't!" exclaimed Bancroft. "I haven't 
received any message since day before yesterday. 
That message your father got was a cable." 

"Gosh!" ejaculated Tom. "I thought all along 
it was a radio. I never asked, but just took it for 
granted. Then you don't know how long these sets 
have been out of order?" 

"Well, I know they were all right when we sent 
those messages off after we picked up the Devon- 
shire's boat," replied Bancroft. 

"Then perhaps it's the volcano," said Tom. "If 

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MORE MYSTERIES 

it is, the sets will work all right after we get farther 
away." 

"And we've forgotten something else," put in 
Frank. "How can we tell whether it's the sending 
or receiving sets that have gone bad? Maybe they 
all send and won't receive or all receive and won't 
send." 

"Why, of course that's so," assented Tom. "If 
it's the same trouble with all — ^the volcano or at- 
mosphere or anything, then we may all be sending 
but can't receive. But you're wrong, in a way, be- 
cause we know it must be in the receiving end anyway, 
or we'd hear some messages from ships or shore 
even if they didn't get ours. So if we're not sending, 
the things have gone wrong both ways. Well, I'm 
going to ours now, so listen." 

It was now night, a dark, inky black night such 
as only occurs in the tropics, with the darkness seem- 
ing to shut one in by a curtain and Tom had actually 
to feel his way along the decks. The sea was fairly 
smooth, and the destroyer, steadied by her swift 
rush through the water, was making easy weather 
of it, and by the vibration of her hull Tom knew 
that she was being driven at the greatest speed pos- 
sible in her still crippled condition. The decks 

61 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

seemed deserted, although Tom knew that, hidden 
from view in the blackness, the watch was being kept 
and once he glimpsed a dim, white, ghostly figure 
as it passed through the rays of a running light for- 
ward and he heard faint voices from the direction of 
the chart room and bridge. But somehow he had 
a peculiar feeling of mystery or danger afoot and 
glanced nervously about. Then, realizing how fool- 
ish he was, he shook off the childish fears of the 
dark and reaching the stairs descended towards the 
little room where he and Frank had installed their 
radio outfits. 

The steel-walled, narrow alleyway was dimly 
lighted by screened electric bulbs and reaching the 
door to the room, Tom turned the knob, swung it 
open, and stepped into the black interior. With 
groping fingers he reached for the switch beside the 
door and pressed the button. At his touch the place 
was flooded with brilliant light and dazed by the 
sudden glare Tom involuntarily turned his faice and 
blinked. The next instant the steel ceiling seemed 
to crash down upon his head, his knees sagged limply, 
the light danced and spun about and he felt him- 
self sinking into a bottomless black pit. 

Slowly consciousness came back to him. First, 

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MORE MYSTERIES 

as a dull, throbbing ache, then as a stabbing pain 
in his head and with the pain came the dim memory 
of the blinding light, the blow and oblivion. What 
had happened? What had fallen from above to 
strike him? Why was it so dark? Why did he 
feel suffocating? Had the lights gone out? Was 
he still pinned under the object which had hit him? 

Perhaps, he thought, there had been an accident, 
a collision. Perhaps, even now, the destroyer was 
sinking. He strove to turn his head, to rise, and 
then, for the first time, he suddenly realized that 
his head was enveloped in the heavy choking folds 
of a blanket, that his arms were pinioned behind his 
back and with the discovery came the terrifying 
knowledge that he had been struck by some one ; 
stunned, gagged, and bound by some enemy. 

But, by whom? Who upon the destroyer could 
have done this? Who had been hiding in the room 
and for what reason? 

Choking for breath, still dazed from the blow on his 
head, frightened and sick, feeling as if every breath 
under the smothering cloth must be his last, Tom 
nevertheless thought of the others. The vessel and 
his friends must be in danger; there must be mutiny 
afoot, and he groaned to think that he could not warn 

63 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

the others; could not even cry out. Then, suddenly 
he forgot all, forgot his aching dizzy head, his gasp- 
ing, choking lungs, his terror and his plight, for 
through the folds of the blanket the sounds of a 
human voice came dimly to him. And, as Tom's 
straining ears caught the words, he could scarcely 
believe he was not in a delirium. Terror froze the 
blood in his veins. 

"Everything correct," came faintly through the 
cloth. "We'll fix the gear so she'll go on the rocks in 
the Bocas. Yes, all out of it but this and I'll fix this 
in a minute more. Oh, yes. Pretty near caught. 
Fool boy bobbed up unexpectedly. Knocked him out. 
Oh, no, toss him overboard presently. No, no trace." 

Then silence — and Tom, knowing his end was near, 
that in a few short moments he would be cast, 
bound, gagged and helpless into the black water, 
prayed for unconsciousness, prayed for oblivion that 
would end his sufferings. But the very terror of his 
fate kept his mind active and his senses alive, while 
each short, gasping breath he drew sent surges of 
awful, crashing pain through his temples and he felt 
as though his eyes were bulging from the sockets. 

Then he felt himself roughly seized and being 
carried away bodily. He knew that in another in- 

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MORE MYSTERIES 

slant he would find himself falling, would feel the 
cold waters close over him. Summoning all his fast 
ebbing strength, he uttered a piercing scream and 
once more lost consciousness. 

Muffled by the blanket about his head, Tom's last 
despairing cry could not have been heard ten feet 
away; but it was enough. Less than ten feet off, Sam 
the Bahaman was at that instant approaching the 
room, passing through the alleyway. At the boy's 
smothered cry, he leaped to the door, flung it open 
and with a savage yell sprang at the figure about to 
throw the apparently lifeless boy through the open 
gun port. 

So swift and silent had been Sam's response to 
Tom's cry that the negro's yell was the first warning 
Tom's captor had of the Bahaman's approach. 
Startled, taken utterly by surprise, he dropped the 
boy's body, whipped out a revolver and whirled 
about. But Sam, with head lowered, had hurled 
himself like a catapult across the room. Before the 
other could even aim his weapon, the negro's head 
struck him squarely in the stomach with the force 
of a battering ram. With a gasping, awful gurgle 
the man doubled up and shot through the open gun 
port into the sea. Sam, carried forward by his own 
momentum, grasped the gun carriage and saved him- 

65 



HADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

self in the nick of time from plunging into the water 
after the writhing body of his victim. 

The Bahaman gave one glance through the open 
barbette at the racing, black, foam-flecked waves 
and then, with a grin of satisfaction, he sprang to 
Tom's side, whipped off the blanket, and tore loose 
the bonds about his wrists. Lifting the unconscious 
boy in his powerful black arms, he raced with him 
to the deck and to the room where Tom's father and 
the others were chatting, all oblivious of the tragedy 
which had taken place beneath their feet. 

To their frenzied questions as they worked fever- 
ishly over Tom, Sam could give but very vague and 
unsatisfactory replies. "Ah jus' cotch tha' soun' of 
tha' young gen'man's cry, Chief," he told Mr. Paul- 
ing. "An' Ah knowed tha' mus' be trouble foi* he an' 
burs' into the room. An Ah seed tha' Englishman jus' 
mekkin' fo' to heave he out the gun po't. Chief." 

Englishman!" cried Mr. Pauling. "What English- 

9" 

Tha' English sailor man, Chief," replied Sam. 
"You don't mean Robinson!" exclaimed Mr. 
Pauling. "Where is he? What happened?" 

"Yaas, Chief, tha' officer we picked up in tha' boat. 
Chief. He's finish, Chief. Ah don' rightly know 

66 



6£-| 



man.^ 



MORE MYSTERIES 

where he gone, but Ah' 'spec tha' sharks got he." 

"Suffering cats!" cried out Rawlins. "Did you 
knock him overboard?" 

Sam grinned. "Yaas, Sir," he replied. "Least- 
wise, when Ah seed he mekkin' to heave the young 
gen'man out, Ah jus' butted he afore he could mek 
to shoot an Ah 'spec Ah butted he pretty hard, fo' 
he jus' mek one good grunt an' scooned out o' tha' 
po't like Davy Jones was callin' he." 

"You old black rascal!" cried Rawlins, slapping 
Sam on the back. "I'll say you butted him good — 
and I'll bet he 'scooned.' Why, by glory, I'd rather 
be kicked by a mule than butted by that kinky head 
of yours." 

"Jove, but this is a mystery!" exclaimed Mr. Hen- 
derson. "The fellow must have gone crazy sud- 
denly. Why on earth should he wish to injure 
Tom?" 

"Perhaps Tom can tell us, when he comes to," 
suggested Commander Disbrow. "Ah, he's all right, 
he'll be out of his faint in a moment." 

Presently Tom's eyes opened and he looked about, 
a wild, uncomprehending expression on his face. 
Then, realizing that he really was among his friends, 
that his father was bending over him and that he 

67 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

had not been thrown into the sea, he smiled and 
closing his eyes, took a long deep breath. 

When again he looked up, he was fully conscious 
and to his father's anxious queries declared he felt 
all right except weak and that his head ached. Then, 
for the first time, the others discovered the great 
bruised lump upon his head and as it was being 
bandaged Tom told his amazing story. 

"The scoundrel!" cried Mr. Pauling. "I can't 
understand it. Whom was he talking to in the 
room?" 

"In the room!" fairly shouted Rawlins. "Don't 
you see it all, Mr. Pauling? He was talking to 
those blamed "reds." The whole thing's a frame 
up. They weren't shipwrecked at all. The Devon- 
shire never was held up. It was all a trick and I 
said I had a hunch it was at the time. They just 
got aboard us to give them a chance to wreck the 
destroyer and get away. He put the radio sets out 
of commission and left the boys' set 'til the last so he 
could call to his friends." 

Before Rawlins had uttered a dozen words, the 
Commander had slipped from the room and before 
the diver had ended he had given low-toned orders 
and commands. 

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MORE MYSTERIES 

"By Jove, I guess you're right!" exclaimed Mr. 
Pauling. "But still, we got that cable from Trinidad 
this morning. The Devonshire must be there." 

Rawlins snorted. "Cable nothing!" he replied. 
"That was a fake — sent by the same bunch to head 
us for Trinidad. Didn't Tom hear him say they'd 
fix our gear to put us on the rocks in the Bocas? 
Why, by gravy, they may be hanging around with- 
in sight of us now! There never was a Devonshire, 
They just dropped off from the sub in our course 
and pretended to be adrift. I'll bet the old sub 
wasn't fifty yards away when we took 'em aboard." 

"And we thought they'd fallen into our trap!" 
ejaculated Mr. Henderson. "And we were the ones 
who were caught." 

"A miss is as good as a mile," Rawlins reminded 
him. "And we're not caught yet. We'll fool 'em 
still and land 'em if I have to follow them to King- 
dom Come. Say, we'd better get the rest of that 
bunch rounded up before they do anything or get 
wise to Robinson being bumped off." 

"They're attended to," announced Commander 
Disbrow, as he reentered the room. "Every mother's 
son of them is safe in double irons." 

"Bully for you!" cried Rawlins. "Now let's put 

69 



6ii 
6i 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

our heads together and see how we'll nab the rest 
of the bunch." 

There we're up against it," declared Mr. Pauling. 
If we could make any of the prisoners confess, we 
might find out their plans, although I doubt if they 
know them. And we haven't the least idea as to 
where the submarine is. I think it's about hope- 
less." 

"I'll be shot if 'tis," declared the diver. "That 
fake British rascal was going to get off with a whole 
skin with his gang somewhere. You can bet he 
wouldn't risk his dirty neck when we went on the 
rocks. All we've got to do is pretend to fall in with 
their plans, keep on for Trinidad, and watch devel- 
opments. There was some plan to get this bunch off 
before we got there and we're boobs if we can't get 
on to it." 

"Yes, no doubt you're right," agreed Mr. Pauling. 
"But still I'm doubtful of success. The criminal 
always has the advantage in a case of this sort for 
he knows his own plans and makes them while know- 
ing more or less of his pursuers' plans and move- 
ments, whereas the authorities know nothing of his 
and must go largely by guess work. Possibly the 
boys might send some message — asking for further 

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MORE MYSTERIES 

orders or pretending the exact plans had not gone 
through — and so get information." 

"No, that would give us away at once," declared 
Rawlins. "They knew the radio instruments were 
all disabled and that Robinson, or whatever his 
real name was, intended to fix the boys' set as soon 
as he was through talking, and now if we start butting 
in on radio again, they'll shy off." 

"But what did he mean about fixing the gear and 
the Bocas?" asked Tom. 

"The Bocas are the narrow channels leading into 
the Gulf of Paria from the Caribbean," explained 
the Commander. "The tide runs swiftly and there 
are dangerous rocky shores on either side. If a 
ship's steering gear or engines go wrong there, she'll 
pile on the rocks in a moment. I expect the rascals 
planned to monkey with the steering gear — though 
how I can't imagine. I've a gang of machinists and 
engineers going over every part of the ship now. 
No knowing but they may have done something al- 
ready." 

"And to think we pitied them and thought them 
shipwrecked sailors!" exclaimed Frank. 

"Yes, and I was fool enough to give away some 
of our plans," lamented Mr. Pauling. "No doubt 

71 



i6 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

that confounded faker told them all to his friends 
on the sub." 

"But you didn't tell him the secret cipher you used 
in notifying the authorities," said Mr. Henderson. 
"How do you imagine they discovered it and man- 
aged to get the message to you?" 

I don't think they did," replied Mr. Pauling. 
The cable came in in English and I had no sus- 
picions. As long as the Devonshire and its crew 
were supposedly taken, I assumed that there was no 
further need for secrecy and that the officials used a 
plain message for that reason." 

"Hmm, I see," mused the other. "I wonder where 
it was really sent from." 

"Probably not sent at all," declared Rawlins. 
"More likely a plain fake from beginning to end, 
written right in Dominica and never saw the cable 
office." 

"Well, what are we going to do with this gang 
we've got in the brig?" inquired the Commander. 
"Take them to Trinidad?" 

"I think the best and first thing is to question 
them," replied Mr. Pauling. "By taking them one 
at a time we may learn something." 

Accordingly, the men were brought up, shackled 

72 



MORE MYSTERIES 

and under guard, and Mr. Pauling and Mr. Hender- 
son, who were past masters at the art of wringing 
damaging admissions from criminals, questioned each 
of the surly lot at length. But all their efforts to 
secure information amounted to but little. The men 
declared they knew nothing of the plans of their 
leaders; every one maintained that the story of the 
seizure of the Devonshire was gospel truth and all 
professed entire innocence of any wrong doing. No 
amount of cross questioning or threatening shook 
their story and not one made a statement which con- 
flicted with another's. 

"They're the most accomplished set of liars I ever 
ran across," declared Mr. Pauling, "and the worst 
of it is, we really haven't an atom of evidence or 
proof against them. If the Devonshire never turned 
up, they could claim that she had been sunk by the 
'reds' and our own evidence as to the past activities 
of the villains would lend color to these fellows' 
tale. Even the fact that Robinson plotted or planned 
to destroy us or that he was in league with those on 
the sub would not affect these men. They could hold 
that he was planted on the Devonshire and the rest of 
her crew knew nothing of it." 

"Yes, that's very true," admitted the Commander, 

73 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"but I would suggest we put into Barbados and leave 
this crowd there. Possibly the Admiralty Courts 
may be able to hold them on some charge." 

"I would, but for the fact that if, as Rawlins thinks, 
the sub is watching us, our going to Barbados would 
arouse their suspicions and as long as there is a 
remote chance of getting the leaders I'm going to 
take it," replied Mr. Pauling. 

As he finished speaking, Bancroft ^nd the boys 
appeared. 

"We've found the trouble with the radio!" cried 
Tom. "And it's all right now. They'd cut the lead- 
in wire where it passed through an insulating tube 
and had spliced the insulation together, and on the 
radio compass they'd taken out a section of wire and 
replaced it with a bit of stick covered with the in- 
sulation where it was connected to a binding post." 

"I'll say they're clever rascals!" exclaimed Raw- 
lins. "Well, we can hear any messages they send 
now even if we don't want to send." 

"Personally, I'm sorry that Sam butted that man 
Robinson overboard," remarked Mr. Pauling who had 
been deep in thought. "He's bobbed up twice in the 
nick of time to save your life, Tom, and each time 
he's kiUed a man who would have been more valua- 

74 



MORE MYSTERIES 

ble alive than dead. Not that I blame him — I owe 
him a greater debt than I can ever hope to repay — 
but I do wish that if he's destined to rescue you from 
every scrape you get into that he could do it without 
always destroying our evidence. I'd give a great 
deal to have a chance to put a few questions to that 
Robinson." 

"And I'll bet my boots to a tin whistle he wouldn't 
have come across with any information," declared 
Rawlins. "I've been putting two and two together 
and I've a hunch he's the chap who called himself a 
'Yank' when the boys heard him talking on the tramp 
back in St. John. He was too blamed clever to give 
away anything and maybe, after all, these men are 
telling the truth and he was planted on the Devon- 
shire and his friends seized the ship. That would 
account for their letting Robinson and a boat's crew 
get away — just to board us you see. By glory, it's 
such a mixed-up plot within a plot that it's sure got 
me guessing." 

"Jove, that may be so," cried Mr. Henderson. 
"If so, it would explain several puzzles. He may 
have intended to escape alone and let the rest of the 
crowd sink or swim with us. 'Twould have been 
fairly easy for him to do that — just drop over the 

75 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

side and be picked up by the sub at some prearranged 
spot — ^^vhereas a crowd of twenty-two men would have 
a hard jdb to clear out undetected." 

"Well, he dropped over all right," chuckled the 
diver. "Only I'll bet the sub wasn't standing by to 
pick him up." 

"Perhaps we can solve part of the mystery when 
we reach Trinidad," said Mr. Pauling. "If the 
Devonshire is overdue, we can be fairly sure she was 
seized. Whereas if she arrives with her real officers 
and crew, we'll know it was all a frame-up. But we'll 
owe an apology to her company in that case." 

Rawlins uttered an ejaculation and springing up 
rushed from the room. 

"Well, I wonder what's struck him now!" exclaimed 
Mr. Henderson. 

"Another hunch, probably," laughed the Com- 
mander. "He seems full of them." 

"And usually pretty near the truth at that," put 
in Mr. Pauling. 

Five minutes later the diver reappeared. "Some 
one please kick me for a blamed dub!" he exclaimed. 
"Here we've been backing and filling and talking and 
discussing and guessing and we might have found out 

the truth in a minute at any time." 

76 



MORE MYSTERIES 

"If you'll tell us what you're driving at, we may 
understand," said Mr. Pauling. "What's this new 
discovery of yours?" 

"That this bunch we've got on board are all blamed 
liars!" replied the diver. "There isn't any such 
ship as the Devonshire, At least none that corres- 
ponds with their story. I've just gone through 
Lloyds' Registry and there are only three British 
ships of the name. One's a wooden bark, the other's 
a little coasting steamer and the third's a big liner." 

"By Jove!" ejaculated Mr. Henderson. 

"You'd better kick me too!" laughed the Com- 
mander. "I'm ready to join your boob society at 
any time, Rawlins. I'd hate to have the rest of the 
navy hear of this. Here I'm supposed to use that 
registry for looking up ships and I never thought of 
it when the need came." 

"Well, we're none of us infallible," Mr. Henderson 
reminded him. "However, that's one point settled. 
The next thing — " 

At this instant a lieutenant dashed into the room 
and saluted. "Submarine on the starboard bow!" he 
announced. 



CHAPTER V 
THE END OF THE SUBMARINE 

AT the officer's words every one leaped up and 
dashed on deck, scarcely knowing what to 
expect, for the appearance of a submarine 
was the last thing any had dreamed of and all 
felt sure the sub-sea craft must be the one they 
sought. For a moment they gazed upon an appar- 
ently bare sea, then, half a mile away, they caught a 
glimpse of a dark object resembling the water-logged 
hull of a ship as it lifted against the sky on a long 
roller. Already the destroyer's men were at the for- 
ward gun and with every one excited and expectant, 
the little ship bore down upon the submarine. 

"By glory, they must be going to surrender!" 
cried Rawlins. "If they weren't, they'd submerge." 

"Then why in thunder don't they signal?" ex- 
claimed the Commander. 

Turning, he barked out an order and a moment 
later, a string of bright flags rose to the destroyer's 
stubby mast. 

78 



THE END OF THE SUBMARINE 

But there was no response from the submarine, 
— no answering signal. 

"There's something fishy about her!" declared 
Rawlins. "Guess they've got something up their 
sleeves!" 

"They won't pull any monkey shines with me, 
hang them!" burst out Commander Disbrow. Then, 
to the expectant gunner, "Put a shot alongside of 
her!" 

Hardly were the words uttered, when the decks 
shook to the roar of the gun and a huge column of 
water rose like a geyser a few feet from the sub- 
marine. 

"That ought to wake them up!" cried Mr. Hender- 
son. 

"But it didn't!" exclaimed the diver who was 
staring through his glasses. "By glory, they must 
all be dead!" 

The destroyer had now drawn within a few hun- 
dred feet of the submarine and still there was no sign 
of life, no signal displayed upon the wallowing craft 
ahead. 

"I don't like to sink her out of hand," mused 
Commander Disbrow, "but I'll be hanged if I'll 
board her until I know what's up. See if you 

79 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

can chip a bit off her conning tower, Flannigan." 

The big Irish gunner looked up and grinned as he 
saluted. "Thot Oi will, Sor!" he replied as he 
carefully trained his gun. 

And as, at the crashing report, the top of the 
submarine's conning tower vanished in a puff of 
smoke and a spurt of flame, the watchers cheered 
lustily. 

"I'll be sunk!" shouted Rawlins when even this 
failed to bring any response from the submarine, 
"They are dead — or else she's deserted!" 

"Have a boat lowered away!" ordered the Com- 
mander turning to the young lieutenant, "and board 
that sub with an armed crew. Don't take chances. 
If you find any one, take them dead or alive — and 
be sure you get the drop on them first!" 

A moment later the boat was in the water, the 
armed bluejackets tumbled into her and in the lee of 
the destroyer rapidly bore down on the sub-sea craft 
while those on the destroyer watched them with every 
nerve tense with excitement. They saw the boat draw 
alongside the submarine, saw the officer and two men 
scramble on to the water-washed deck and saw them 
cautiously approach the hatch with drawn pistols. 
Then they disappeared and all waited breathlessly, 

80 



THE END OF THE SUBMARINE 

expecting to see them emerge with their captives. 
But when, a moment later, they again came into view 
they were alone and gaining their boat headed back 
for the destroyer. 

"I'll say she's deserted!" cried Rawlins. "By 
glory, those rascals are leaving a regular trail of 
deserted boats behind them. First the sub off New 
York, then the schooner in the Bahamas, then that 
sub in Santo Domingo and now this one! Suffering 
cats! They must have subs to burn!" 

"Well, if they've abandoned this one, I'd like to 
know what they're on now," declared Mr. Pauling. 
"Perhaps they did seize some other ship after all." 

"We'll know in a moment what's up," said Mr. 
Henderson as the boat swept alongside. 

"Forward starboard plates are stove in. Sir," 
announced the lieutenant as he approached and 
saluted the Commander. "Appears to have been in 
collision. She's half full of water and several 
bodies floating about inside." 

"By Jove!" cried Mr. Pauling. "They've met 
their deserts at last! Well, it's saved us the trouble 
of following farther. I suppose you did not notice 
the bodies sufficiently to describe them, Lieutenant." 

"Unrecognizable, Sir," replied the young officer. 

81 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"Evidently suffocated by gas from the batteries when 
the water reached them. Not pleasant to look at, 
Sir, but appeared to be members of the engine room 
crew from their clothing." 

"Hmm, then I'm afraid we'll never know if the 
leaders survived or not," mused Mr. Pauling. "Too 
bad, but it can't be helped. I guess there's nothing 
else, Disbrow, except to land this gang we have in 
Trinidad — I suppose that's the nearest port." 

"Yes, it's the nearest," agreed the Commander, 
"but we'll sink that sub first. She's a menace to 
navigation." 

A moment later the gun roared again and once 
again. Fragments of steel plates and twisted iron 
mingled with the upflung water as the bursting 
shells struck true and the shattered submarine sank 
to her last resting place to form the tomb of those 
who had come to their death within her. Now that 
the submarine had been destroyed there was no 
chance of hearing the truth of the plans which had 
been made to rescue Robinson and his fellow plot- 
ters from the destroyer and all possible speed was 
made for Trinidad. 

But Rawlins was still skeptical. "I've a hunch 
that old boy with the monocle didn't go down with 

82 



THE END OF THE SUBMARINE 

that sub," he declared as the blue waters changed to 
a dull muddy brown from the mouth of the Orinoco 
nearly one hundred miles distant. "I'll bet he and 
Red Whiskers and some others got away and saved 
their hides. They may have been picked up or they 
might even have made land. And I'd like to know 
what became of that blamed seaplane." 

"If they were picked up they'll be reported," de- 
clared Mr. Pauling. "When we reach Trinidad, 
we can send out a general alarm to hold them where- 
ever they arrive; but personally I believe they're 
dead. If the sub was in collision, she must have 
been run down at night and in that case all below 
were probably suffocated. The fact that there were 
only a few bodies visible proves nothing, for there 
may have been many more in the rooms or out of 
sight. Of course, the plane is unaccounted for, but 
I imagine they left her somewhere and all took to the 
sub long before it was disabled. You see, we have 
no proof that it was used after leaving Aves — 
now that we know Robinson's story was pure false- 
hood." 

"Maybe," was the diver's comment. "But I'm 
still from Missouri." 

When the boys came on deck the following morn- 

83 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

ing, the lofty mountains of Venezuela loomed above 
the yellow-brown water ahead with blue-green hills 
stretching far to east and west. 

"Gosh! it doesn't seem possible we're looking at 
South America," exclaimed Frank. "Where's Trin- 
idad, Mr. Rawlins?" 

"There to the east," replied the diver. "Those 
mountains to the west are at the tip of Venezuela, 
those lower green hills dead ahead are the islands at 
the Bocas, and only the northern end of Trinidad and 
those faint misty mountains in the distance are visi- 
ble from here." 

Gradually, the apparently solid land ahead 
seemed to break up; narrow openings of water 
showed between the hills and presently the destroyer 
was steaming through the famous Bocas leading 
from the Caribbean into the great Gulf of Paria. 

"Golly, this would be a nasty place to have any- 
thing go wrong!" exclaimed Tom as the little ship 
passed between the jagged, rocky islands and reefs 
that lined the waterway. "Maybe I'm not glad I 
surprised that fellow." 

"Don't think you're the only one that is," said 
Rawlins. "And Disbrow isn't dead sure something 
may not be wrong yet. Look at the way he's got 

84 



THE END OF THE SUBMARINE 

men at the anchors and the way he's just crawling 
along." 

But nothing happened, the destroyer passed 
through the Bocas in safety, and, as the great bulk 
of Trinidad loomed ahead, the boys forgot every- 
thing else in their interest in watching the beauties 
unfolding as they steamed across the Gulf towards 
Port of Spain. They could scarcely believe that 
the ranges of lofty, cloud-topped mountains, the far- 
reaching valleys and the interminable shores stretch- 
ing away in the dim distance were on an island and 
not a continent. When they mentioned this. Com- 
mander Disbrow explained that Trinidad really is a 
bit of the tip of South America cut off only by the 
narrow Bocas at the two ends of the Gulf of Paria. 

"It's wonderful," declared Tom, "but still I don't 
like it as well as Dominica. Somehow it seems 
more natural for a place as big as this to have all 
those mountains, but Dominica's so different from 
anything I ever imagined that it fascinated me." 

"And this is too much to take in," added Frank. 
"Dominica was like a picture that you could see all 
at once. Are there any interesting things here?" 

"There's the Pitch Lake," replied Rawlins. 
"Only it's not a lake, but a big bed of asphalt, and 

85 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

oil wells, and some fine water falls, and the Blue 
Basin." 

"Well, I hope Dad lets us stay a day or two so we 
can see the place," said Tom. "Is the Pitch Lake 
near the town?" 

"No — down at the other end of the island," re- 
plied the diver. "You can go by train and steamer 
or by motor car. You'll find it a queer spot, 
but hotter than blazes. When I used to come down 
here with Father, he sometimes loaded asphalt at 
Brighton — that's the port of the Asphalt company — 
and I was always mighty glad to get away. I'll 
say it's the hottest place in this world!" 

They were now approaching the harbor and as Mr. 
Pauling had radioed ahead that he had prisoners to 
be turned over to the authorities, a police boat 
manned by gigantic black "bobbies" was waiting for 
the destroyer when she at last dropped anchor off Port 
of Spain. 

As the pompous, florid-faced inspector, followed 
by his half-dozen black giants, boarded the de- 
stroyer the usual fleet of shore boats drew close. 

"Here, you!" cried Rawlins beckoning to one 
darky. "Hand me up a paper." 

Tossing a shilling to the fellow, the diver seized 

86 



THE END OF THE SUBMARINE 

the Gazette and turned eagerly to the column headed 
"Maritime News." 

"Here 'tis!" he exclaimed, as he ran his eye 
rapidly over the various items. 



"Barbados, 29th. Steamship Trident, La 
Guaira for European ports, put in with leak in 
port bow. Reports being in collision with what 
appeared to be a water-logged derelict on the 
night of 27th. Longitude 62° 58' W. Lati- 
tude 12° 35' N. Captain Donaldson states that 
he believes there were men clinging to the dere- 
lict as officer on watch insists he heard cries 
after striking, but no trace of men or of the 
derelict could be found although the Trident 
stood by and burned flares for half an hour. 



"But how do you know that's about the steamer 
that struck the submarine?" asked Tom. 

"I don't know,'' admitted the diver. "But I'll 
bet a five spot to a plugged nickel it is, just the 
same. It's the same position — or at least within a 
few miles of it — as where we found the old sub. 
It'd be blamed funny if there was a derelict and that 
sub knocking about the same spot. Anyhow the 
Trident didn't pick any one up so I guess my hunch 
was wrong about Old Glass Eye getting off." 

87 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

While Rawlins had been speaking, Frank had been 
examining the paper and suddenly he let out a yell 
that made the others jump. 

"Jehoshaphat!" he cried. "Just listen to this!" 
Then while the others listened he read: 



TO EXPLORE JUNGLES IN AIRSHIP 

Demerara, Tuesday. The steamship Devon 
which arrived yesterday brought to our shores 
Messrs. La Verne and Dewar who plan a unique 
expedition into the hinterland. Messrs. La- 
Veme and Dewar brought with them on the De- 
von the latest type of hydroplane or flying boat 
with which they will explore the unknown inte- 
rior of the Colony. Their aircraft excited the 
admiration and wonder of everybody as the two 
intrepid men got safely off and rising grace- 
fully from the surface of the Demerara River 
soared like a great bird above the tree tops and 
disappeared in the direction of the unknown 
solitudes. We understand that Messrs. La- 
Verne and Dewar are conducting their expe- 
dition in the interests of a large British and 
American syndicate which is interested in the 
development of the Colony's resources. We 
wish the gentlemen every success and a safe 
return, 

88 



THE END OF THE SUBMARINE 

"By the great horn spoon, that's them!" shouted 
Rawlins. "Steamship Devon. Well I'll be sunk! 
By glory! How that Robinson did fool us! And 
while those chaps were watching for the Devonshire 
which didn't exist they let the blamed Devon come in 
and those two devils fly away and never even smelled 
a rat!" 

"Then you mean — " began Tom. 

But Rawlins had grabbed the paper and had rushed 
to the room where Mr. Pauling and the others were 
talking earnestly with the Inspector of Police. 

"I'll say they lied after all!" he burst out, as the 
men jumped up in surprise at his unexpected appear- 
ance. "It was the Devon they seized — not the De- 
vonshire! And she's got in and landed the con- 
founded plane and those two precious scoundrels and 
got safe away again! Here 'tis, plain as can be!" 

Eagerly, Mr. Pauling seized the proffered paper 
and read the despatch from Demerara and even the 
apoplectic inspector, who had seemed about to explode 
with outraged dignity at Rawlins' impetuous inter- 
ruption of the conference, forgot his ruffled feelings 
and scowled fiercely at the unoffending sheet over 
Mr. Pauling's shoulder. 

"Jove, you're right!" declared Mr. Pauling at last. 

89 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"A coincidence of that sort would be impossible. 
We've been tricked again, Henderson. Outplayed. 
But it may not be too late yet. Have Bancroft 
radio to hold the DevonJ' 

"No use now!" announced Rawlins. "She sailed 
day before yesterday. Look down in the Maritime 
News and you'll find it. And there's another item 
there — it was the Trident that rammed the sub." 

"But, but, my good man!" spluttered the inspector. 
"You can capture her. She cannot be far away you 
know!" • 

"No?" replied the diver questioningly. "Not in 
miles perhaps, but where? Did she sail north, east, 
south or west? The sea's a mighty big place and a 
ship's a mighty small thing to find on it — especially 
when she don't want to be found. And what's her 
name now? You can bet your bottom dollar she isn't 
the Devon any longer." 

"But really, really, my good man, I'm not accus- 
tomed to being addressed in that manner. Sir!" burst 
out the inspector. "I'd have you understand I'm the 
Inspector of Police, Sir. Why, who under the sun 
are you anyway, Sir?" 

"I'm a poor boob that thought you fellows down 
here had common sense!" retorted Rawlins hotly. 

90 



THE END OF THE SUBMARINE 

"Why the dickens didn't they have brains enough to 
think of Devon and Devonshire being too blamed 
much alike?" 

"Come, come, Rawlins!" exclaimed Mr. Pauling in 
mollifying tones. "Major May is not to blame and I 
suppose there really was no reason for suspecting the 
Devon to be the Devonshire,^' 

Then, turning to the purple-faced officer. 
"Major," he said, "let me introduce Mr. Rawlins. 
He's our guide, philosopher, and friend, if I may 
quote a hackneyed saying. I don't know what we'd 
do without him. He and the boys are really respon- 
sible for all we've accomplished and he's famous for 
his hunches." 

Rawlins grinned and grasped the inspector's hand 
and the latter, as quick to recover his temper as to 
lose it, smiled under his bristling white mustache. 
"Jolly glad to know you!" he declared. "Sorry if 
I offended you and all that. Bit peppery I expect — 
India and liver, you know. Curry, and all that sort 
of thing. Ah, yes — and the hunches — 'pon my word, 
never heard of them. Sort of cocktail, are they 
not?" 

The diver could not restrain his merriment and 
Mr. Pauling and the others grew scarlet. 

91 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGL 



"Not quite, Major," Rawlins managed to reply. 
''Don't know if I can explain it — Yankee term, sort 
of slang, meaning a premonition or something like 
it, a — well a hunch you know." 

But the splenetic old veteran could take a joke 
even if on himself and roared with laughter at his 
own error. 

"Jolly good thing, that about the Devon,^^ he de- 
clared when all were on good terms once more. 
"Now we have a proper charge against these rascals 
you have. Couldn't see my way before — with no 
such ship as the bally old Devonshire, Couldn't 
accuse them of doing away with a ship that didn't 
exist, you know. All different now, though. Well, 
I must be off. Anything I can do, just call on me. 
Any plans in view?" 

"I'll say we'd better beat it for Demerara," de- 
clared Rawlins before Mr. Pauling could reply. 
"If those devils are off in that seaplane, we may 
get 'em yet. They've got to land somewhere and 
they've got to come back. They can't fly clea^ 
across South America without gas." 

"Righto!" agreed the inspector. "Cousin of 
mine inspector there, you know. Give him my re- 
gards. Good chap, Philip, rather new to his job, of 

92 



THE END OF THE SUBMARINE 

course, and all that sort of thing — ^but smart chap. 
Yes, he'll do anything to help you, rather!" 

"Now, what's this big idea about going to Dem- 
erara?" asked Mr. Pauling, after the inspector had 
left accompanied by his men and with the surly pris- 
oners securely handcuifed. 

"Why, my idea is just this," the diver explained. 
"Those two rascals have beat it for the interior in 
their plane. Of course, they were that slick guy 
with the monocle and old Red Whiskers — but you 
know as well as I do that they're not exploring or 
in the interests of any syndicate. But I will say 
they've got some sense of humor at that — 'big Amer- 
ican and British syndicate,' by glory! They're half 
telling the truth at that — the 'reds' are some syndi- 
cate, I'll tell the world! But that trip of theirs is 
just bluff. They've just gone up in the bush a ways 
to lie low until we've dropped off their trail. And 
I'll say they had some everlasting nerve to use the 
name Devonshire and run the risk of the bobbies 
over there getting suspicious when the Devon came 
in. Expect it was so the crew wouldn't have trouble 
in remembering it. Well, as I was saying, they'll 
hide out in the bush or, by Jimminy, they may be 
headed for Dutch Guiana! But, whatever it is, a 

93 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

plane can't go snooping around Guiana without at- 
tracting attention and we can trail 'em easy." 

"Admitting all that is true, as it no doubt is, 
whose attention is the plane going to attract and how 
do you propose trailing them?" asked Mr. Pauling. 

"Also," he added, "what makes you think the 
Devon was seized? Perhaps, the two took passage 
on her from some port with their plane." 

"I'll answer the last question first," replied the 
diver. "A couple of chaps don't go touring around 
the West Indies carrying a seaplane in their hand- 
bag and if they'd appeared suddenly at some port, 
as if flying around, the paper would have mentioned 
it. Trust the skipper of the Devon — if he'd been 
genuine — to make a good yam out of it. Besides, 
if they hadn't seized the ship, how the deuce would 
Robinson have thought of using the same name and 
just tacking a 'shire' on it? If he'd been straight — 
or rather if they'd just boarded the Devon as you 
suggest — he'd have said Devon, And there's that 
Anannias Club we just sent ashore. We know they 
lied because there wasn't any Devonshire or I'd think 
they were survivors from the Devon. But as long 
as they weren't, then they're part of the gang. The 
only thing that gets me is where they stowed away a 

94 



THE END OF THE SUBMARINE 

big enough crew on the sub to send twenty-two men 
aboard us and have enough left to man the Devon, 
And now about the other questions. The Indians 
are the ones who'll see the plane and you can bet 
your boots they'll all see it — think the Great Spirit 
himself's coming I expect. By talking to a few of 
the Indians, we can trail that old plane as easy as 
if they were blazing their way." 

"But you forget Guiana is a big territory and a 
plane can hide anywhere on the rivers," objected Mr. 
Pauling. "No, Rawlins, I'm afraid they've given 
us the slip for good." 

"Yes, I agree with you there," declared Mr. Hend- 
erson, "but I do think it may be well to run over to 
Demerara. We can have a talk with the officials 
and leave them to apprehend the plane — and the 
Devon, if it comes back." 

"Very well," assented Mr. Pauling. "It's two to 
one, so I agree. Disbrow, we might as well get 
under way for Demerara." 



CHAPTER VI 
IN SOUTH AMERICA 

ALTHOUGH the two boys were woefully dis- 
appointed at not being able to see anything 
of Trinidad, yet the fact that they were 
going to Demerara and would actually have a chance 
to see something of South America more than made 
up for it. 

Rawlins assured them that in British Guiana they 
would find a far more interesting spot than Trinidad 
and the boys plied him with questions. 

"Isn't that the place the blow gun and those poi- 
soned arrows came from?" asked Tom. 

"Sure thing," replied the diver. "I don't know 
much about the country — except what I've read and 
been told — but I've been at Georgetown, or Demerara 
as it's called, and you'll find enough to keep you 
busy right there." 

"Gosh, then there must be wild Indians there — 
if they use blow guns," said Frank. "Will we be 
able to see any of them?" 

96 



IN SOUTH AMERICA 

"Country's full of them," declared Rawlins. 
"But they're all peaceable. If we go trailing that 
plane into the bush as I want Mr. Pauling to do, 
you'll see Indians all right. If we don't, you may 
see a few in town. I've always wanted to get into 
the interior myself. It's a wonderful place — most 
of it unexplored — and there's gold and diamonds 
and wild animals and the highest waterfall in the 
world." 

"Now don't get these boys all worked up over it, 
Rawlins," laughed Mr. Pauling. "If we don't look 
out, they'll mutiny and refuse to go home until 
they've had their fill of sightseeing. I admit I'd like 
nothing better than to stretch my legs ashore for a 
time and see something of the country, but this is no 
pleasure jaunt, you know." 

"But if those men are there, we could go after 
them and then it wouldn't be a pleasure trip," ar- 
gued Tom. 

"You can be sure it would not," replied his father. 
"It's bad enough trailing those scoundrels all over 
the Caribbean, let alone trying to run them to earth 
in a tropical jungle. No, I think our chase ends at 
Georgetown." 

But Rawlins was not to be readily discouraged. 
"" 97 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

He was a most persistent character and having once 
made up his mind to follow the "Reds" to "Kingdom 
Come," as he put it, he was not easily to be dissuaded. 
'Til say it would be a blamed shame to give up 
now," he declared. "We've got 'em narrowed down 
to two and the plane (the bunch on the Devon don't 
count) and those two are the chaps you want, Mr. 
Pauling. We've got 'em on the run — smoked 'em 
out of every hole they had — chased 'em into the 
sea and under it and into the air. Now they've 
played their last trump. We'd be a lot of boobs to 
let 'em get away with it now." 

"But you seem to forget that we haven't the least 
idea where they are and that Guiana's a big country," 
Mr. Pauling reminded him. "I've been going over 
the maps with Henderson and Disbrow and it's hope- 
less. Why, they may be in Dutch Guiana or Brazil 
or Venezuela by now. While we were paddling up a 
few miles of jungle river, that plane could be flying 
a couple of hundred miles. It would be worse than 
chasing a bird with your hat." 

"Just the same I've a hunch that we're going to 
get 'em," declared Rawlins. "And by glory, if you 
won't go after 'em, I'm going to drop off and go it 
alone!" 

98 



IN SOUTH AMERICA 

Mr. Pauling laughed. "Any one would think you 
had a personal grudge against them," he chuckled. 

"So I have — confound them!" cried the diver. 
"Didn't they cop my diving suit idea and didn't 
they play a dozen low-down, dirty tricks on us? 
And weren't they trying to stick a wurali-tipped 
dart in me back there at St. John? Besides, I've 
never gone back on one of my hunches yet and it's 
too late to begin now." 

"Well, we'll see what we find out over at George- 
town, before we decide," said Mr. Pauling. "After 
I talk with the officials we can make plans for our 
n€xt move. For all we know they may have impor- 
tant information." 

The destroyer had now left Port of Spain far 
astern and was passing out through the Bocas to the 
open sea. I'hroughout the afternoon she steamed 
steadily eastward through the muddy water and when 
the boys came on deck early the following morning 
there was still no sign of land. 

"Where's Demerara?" asked Tom of the lieuten- 
ant in charge. "Commander Disbrow said we'd be 
in by breakfast time, but I don't see a sign of land." 

"Straight ahead," replied the officer. "There's 
the lightship — see, that little schooner there." 

99 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"Yes I see it," said Tom, "but what is it out in the 
ocean here for?" 

The lieutenant laughed. "It's not!" he replied. 
"We're in the river now. The lightship's on the bar. 
We'll be slowing down to take on the pilot in a few 
moments." 

"In the river!" exclaimed Frank. "Oh, you're 
just fooling! How can this be a river when there 
are no banks?" 

"Honest Injun, 'tis though," declared the officer. 
"The banks are there all right, but they're so low 
you can't see them and the river's thirty-five miles 
wide." 

"Jimminy crickets!" cried Tom. "Thirty-five 
miles wide! Say, I thought the Amazon and the 
Orinoco were the only big rivers down here." 

"Oh, this is just a brook compared to the Amazon," 
said the lieutenant, "but it's wider than the Orinoco. 
It's really the mouth of two big rivers — the Demerara 
and the Essequibo. Look, there comes the pilot." 

A small boat had put off from the lightship and 

came bobbing towards the destroyer, which had 

slowed down, and presently a grizzled old negro 

came scrambling over the side. 

100 



IN SOUTH AMERICA 

With all the pomposity and dignity of an admiral 
he saluted the lieutenant and climbed to the bridge 
and a moment later the destroyer was steaming once 
more on its way under the guidance of the incon- 
gruous old negro. Presently, far ahead, the boys 
saw bits of hazy detached land. Then tall chimneys 
of sugar mills and the slender towers of a wireless 
station became visible; the detached bits of dull 
green, which the boys had taken for islands, joined 
and formed a low green bank, and before they real- 
ized it, the boys found they were passing up a wide 
muddy stream and that roofs, buildings and spires of 
a large town were just ahead. 

"Gosh, isn't everything flat!" exclaimed Frank. 
"I don't see a hill or a mountain or anything but that 
line of low brush anywhere. And the town looks 
as if it were below the water." 

"So it is," replied Commander Disbrow. "Or 
rather it's below the water level. There's a dyke 
or sea wall to keep the water out, there are canals 
running through the streets to drain the place and 
there are big tide gates, or 'kokers' as they call them, 
which are closed at high tide and opened at low 



water." 



101 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"Why, it must be like Holland then!" exclaimed 
Tom. 

"It used to be Dutch," explained the Commander, 
"and the Dutchmen always seem to like to build 
towns below sea level — sort of habit, I guess — 
though why they didn't put it on high land up the 
river a bit gets me. You'll find Dutch names every- 
where, too, and old Dutch buildings, and if you went 
a hundred miles or so up the Essequibo you'd find 
an old Dutch fort." 

The destroyer had now drawn close to the town and 
a few minutes later was being moored to the govern- 
ment dock. 

From the height of the vessel's decks the boys could 
look right over the buildings. Beyond the sea of 
roofs and spires they could see waving palms, long 
avenues of green shade trees and busy, interesting 
streets and they were fairly crazy to go ashore. 

The arrival of an American warship at Demerara 
was such an unusual event that a huge crowd had col- 
lected at the pier and among the multicolored throng 
of black, white, and yellow were the gold lace and uni- 
forms of officers. 

Knowing that his father and the others would 
be thoroughly occupied in the formalities of an of- 

102 



IN SOUTH AMERICA 

ficial welcome, Tom asked permission to go ashore 
with Frank and Rawlins and scarcely was the de- 
stroyer moored when the three darted down the gang- 
way and edging through the crowd came out on the 
noisy, busy street. 

"Gee, this is some town!" exclaimed Tom as the 
three glanced about. "They've automobiles and trol- 
ley cars and everything." 

"Sure it's some town!" agreed Rawlins. "Come 
on, let's take a carriage and drive about. We'll see 
it quicker and better that way." 

Tumbling into a rubber-tired Victoria driven by a 
grinning negro, the diver told him to drive them 
about Georgetown and out to the botanic station. 

The boys were wildly enthusiastic over everything 
and Rawlins, who was almost as much of a boy as 
themselves, pointed out the more interesting features 
of the place. The picturesque Hindu men and 
women, who, garbed in their native costumes, 
swarmed everywhere, fascinated the boys. They 
were delighted with the shady streets, with the cool 
houses half-hidden in masses of strange tropical 
flowers, and they reveled in the calm canals spanned 
by Oriental-looking bridges and filled with pink 

lotus and water lilies. 

103 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"It's the quaintest, prettiest place I've ever seen!" 
declared Tom. "And so foreign looking." 

"And these bright red roads!" exclaimed Frank. 
"And all those East Indians! Why, it's like being 
in another world!" 

"And just look at the way all the houses are built 
on posts or brick pillars!" put in Tom. 

"Yes, that's to keep them dry," Rawlins explained. 
"In the rainy season the streets get flooded at times 
and so they build their houses on stilts." 

But all the other sights they had seen were forgot- 
ten when at last they came to the huge botanic station. 
Here they drove for miles through a veritable tropi- 
cal forest among gigantic trees, under trailing lianas, 
beside jungle streams, all of which, as far as appear- 
ances went, might have been in the very heart of 
South America. But everywhere the red earth 
roads were as smooth and well kept as asphalt, the 
grass was green and velvety, beds of gorgeous flowers 
were all about, and all the trees and plants were 
carefully labeled. Only such things were in evi- 
dence to show it was a park or garden and not the 
untamed wild and when, to the boys' delight, they saw 
a flock of gaudy parrots feeding overhead and caught 
a glimpse of huge-billed toucans, they felt as though 

104 



IN SOUTH AMERICA 

they were actually in the "bush." Everywhere, too, 
were canals filled with the gigantic leaves and huge 
flowers of the Victoria Regia lily and at one spot was 
a lily and lotus-filled lake, bordered with thickets of 
palms and fairly swarming with herons, egrets, and 
boat-bills, with a pair of great, scarlet macaws screech- 
ing from a dead limb over the water, 

"Gosh!" exclaimed Frank. "It's like a zoological 
garden, only better. Oh, look, look there! What's 
that?" As he spoke, a great, dark object had risen 
through the water and with a hissing noise slowly 
disappeared. 

"Only a manatee," laughed Rawlins. "Didn't 
you recognize it? It was one of those fellows that 
led you astray in Santo Domingo, you know." 

"But I never expected to see one here, right in the 
town," declared Frank. 

"Lots of 'em in here," said the diver, "and plenty 
of alligators too. But everywhere you go about 
Georgetown you'll find wild animals and birds. See 
herons and egrets feeding beside the roads and scar- 
let ibis on the mud flats alongside the docks. The 
city's just at the edge of the jungle, you might say, 
and you could go right through to the Amazon with- 
out ever seeing a sign of civilization." 

105 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"Golly, I do hope Dad goes after those fellows!" 
cried Tom. "After seeing this place Fm just crazy 
to see the real jungle." 

"And Indians!" added Frank. 

"Well, I've a hunch he's going," declared Rawlins. 
"I'll bet a dollar to a sixpence we're all in the jungle 
inside of three days." 

From the gardens they drove through a pictur- 
esque village, swarming with East Indians, to the sea- 
wall, then through the town to the market, out to a 
big sugar estate with miles of enormous royal palms 
bordering the road, and finally to the museum 
where they spent an hour or more looking at the 
collections of native birds, animals, insects and In- 
dian curios. 

When at last they boarded the destroyer in time 
for lunch, they found Mr. Pauling and Mr. Hender- 
son in earnest conversation with a tall, lean-faced, 
quiet man dressed in spotless white and a short, roly- 
poly, red-faced officer who wore a gorgeous uniform 
and whose enormous, fiercely twisted mustaches be- 
lied the merry twinkle in his eyes. 

"It's all right, Tom, come in, and you too, Frank, 
and you, Rawlins," cried Mr. Pauling, as Tom, who 
had burst impetuously into the room, saw that his 

106 



IN SOUTH AMERICA 

father was engaged and hastened to withdraw. "This 
is Colonel Maidely," he continued, introducing the 
oflScer, "and this is Mr. Thome. We've been dis- 
cussing Rawlins' idea of going into the bush after 
those rascals. By the way, Rawlins, I told the Col- 
onel your opinion of him for letting the Devon slip 
by and he's prepared to take a good dressing down!" 

The jovial officer laughed heartily. " 'Pon my 
word I deserve it!" he declared. "Jolly stupid of 
me, eh? Fact was we were all so interested in the 
two chaps with the plane we were careless — ^yes, I'll 
admit it. Wager you if it hadn't been for that we'd 
have suspected her. Jolly clever idea that — ^pull- 
ing the wool over our eyes with the airship! And 
my word! What nerve, as you Yankees say — using 
a name as much like Devon as Devonshire! But 
we'll get her yet, old dear — don't worry." 

"And I'm beginning to think your idea is worth 
trying, Rawlins," went on Mr. Pauling. "Mr. 
Thorne here is an explorer — ^just came in from a 
long trip through the interior, and the Colonel says 
he knows more about the bush than the Indians them- 
selves. He says it will be easy to trace the plane — 
just as you did — and he seems to think that in all 
probability they landed somewhere and will await 

107 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

word from their confederates that we've abandoned 
the chase when they can safely come out of hiding." 

"Hurrah!" shouted Tom, quite forgetful of the 
strangers' presence. "Then we are going into the 
bush!" 

"Provided I can induce Mr. Thorne to accom- 
pany us," said his father. "None of us knows any- 
thing about the interior and we'd be helplessly at 



99 

sea. 



"Oh, you will go, won't you?" begged Frank. 
"We're crazy to see Indians and wild animals and 
everything." 

The explorer smiled at the boys' enthusiasm. "I'm 
inclined to think I will," he replied. "I had hoped 
to go to the States next week — my work is done — 
but I'm anxious to be of any service I can to Uncle 
Sam, as well as to my British Colonial friends, and 
I'm still young enough in spirit, if not in years, to 
love adventure and excitement, and this trip promises 
both. Yes, Mr. Pauling, you can count on me and 
the sooner we get off the better." 

"Hurrah! Hip hurrah!" yelled the two boys, 
fairly dancing with joy. 

"Bully for you!" cried Rawlins grasping Mr. 
Thome's hand. "I'll say you're a good sport. 

108 



IN SOUTH AMERICA 

Didn't I tell you we'd be in the bush in three days, 

boys?" 

"Well I hope the rest of your hunch comes true 
as quickly," laughed Mr. Pauling. "I've been tell- 
ing the Colonel and Mr. Thorne about your famous 
hunches and the way they've saved the day so many 
times." 

"Bet you didn't tell them about the inspector over 
at Trinidad thinking they were a new Yankee drink!" 
chuckled the diver. 

"My word, that is rich!" choked Colonel Maidely 
when the laughter had subsided, "Jolly good joke! 
Just like old May — wait 'til I tell that to His Ex- 
cellency and to Philip! By Jove, yes!" 

Mr. Thorne rose. "I'll be starting things going," 
he announced. "Can you gentlemen be ready to 
leave to-morrow morning? I think my Indian boys 
are still here — at least some of them are, and if we 
get off on to-morrow morning's steamer so much the 
better." 

"We can be ready," Mr. Pauling assured him. 
"I suppose we had better take a radio outfit along." 

"By all means," replied the other. "Doubtless 
these men with the plane are in touch with events by 
radio and I count largely on trailing thein by that 

109 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

means. I understand you boys have a radio com- 
pass outfit." 

"Better than that," declared Tom. "We've got 
a resonance coil." 

"Well, take it," directed the explorer. "Don't 
bother about the rest of the outfit — except arms and 
ammunition and old clothes. I'll see to supplies 
and camp kit." 

"Gosh, isn't it great?" exclaimed Tom after Mr. 
Thome had gone. "Just to think we're really going 
into the jungle!" 

"You bet!" agreed Frank. 

"And when we get back we can go looking for that 
loot that they hid," went on Tom, "unless these 
rascals confess and tell us where it is." 

"Jehoshaphat! I'd forgotten all about that," ex- 
claimed Frank. 

"You might just as well {orget it, once and for all," 
declared Mr. Pauling, laughing at the boys' enthus- 
iasm. "I don't think even Rawlins has any idea of 
being able to recover that." 

"I'll say I have!" cried the diver. "But it will 
take some figuring with what we have to go on. But 
I'm more keen on getting the old High Muck-a-Muck 
and his mate than finding that loot just now." 

110 



IN SOUTH AMERICA 

Throughout the rest of the day the boys busied 
themselves with preparations for their trip, going 
over their radio instruments and packing the few be- 
longings they were to take with them. Finally, in the 
evening, when Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson left 
for the reception at Government House, they took 
another long drive about the town and outlying 
country with Rawlins. Early the next morning, 
Mr. Thorne arrived, accompanied by two short, 
stockily built, broad-faced, brown men, who shoul- 
dered the party's baggage and carried it to a waiting 
cart. 

"Everything's arranged," the explorer told Mr. 
Pauling. "Most of my boys have gone up the river, 
but I telegraphed for them to be ready and I found 
a couple of them still in town." 

"Why, were those men you brought Indians?" 
asked Tom in surprise. "I thought they were 
Chinese or something." 

"Akawoias," replied Mr. Thorne. "All the In- 
dians here have a Mongolian appearance." 

"Gosh, if I'd known that, I'd have been more in- 
terested," declared Frank. 

"You'll see them and a lot more for day after 
day," laughed the explorer, "and you'll find them 

111 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

very decent boys. They've been with me for 
months." 

"Do they talk English?" asked Tom. 

"Well, not exactly," replied Mr. Thorne. "They 
have a queer jargon they call 'talky-talky' — some- 
thing like Pigeon English. You'll learn to speak 
it easily enough. Now if you're all ready, let's be 
oflf . The boat leaves in half an hour." 

"By the way," remarked the explorer, as the party 
left the destroyer and walked up the street towards 
the dock or "stelling" where the river steamer was 
moored, "I've a bit of news for you. The seaplane 
passed over Wismar and was headed almost due 
south. I think that rather does away with the idea 
that they were making for Venezuela or Dutch Gui- 
ana. 



"Hmm," muttered Mr. Pauling. "Is there any 
place in that vicinity where they could hide?" 

"It's the least known district in the entire colony," 
Mr. Thorne assured him. "Until I explored it, the 
upper reaches of the Demerara were absolutely un- 
known — even the source of the river had never been 
discovered — and between the Berbice and the Es- 
sequibo rivers above the Demerara is a vast area of 
absolutely unexplored territory. They could come 

112 



IN SOUTH AMERICA 

down anywhere in that district without the slight- 
est chance of being seen — except by Indians — and 
it's near enough the coast to be in radio com- 
munication with a confederate- here or a ship at 
sea. But my own opinion is that their friends 
are over in Dutch Guiana. Judging by your ex- 
periences, they have a particular fondness for the 
Dutch and Dutch colonies." 

"Could they communicate with people there at 
this distance?" asked Mr. Henderson. 

"I don't see why not," replied the explorer. "In 
a direct line, Paramaribo, the capital and port, is a 
little over two hundred miles distant. Of course, I 
do not know the sending range of the plane's outfit, 
but they could certainly receive and I suppose that's 
just as important." 

"If they've got as good an outfit on the plane as 
they had on the sub and at St. John they could send 
twice that distance," declared Tom. "Do you un- 
derstand radio, Mr. Thorne?" 

The explorer smiled, "As Colonel Maidley would 
say, 'rawther'," he replied. "I don't suppose I'm up- 
to-date, but it is something of a hobby with me." 

"Gee, that's bully!" cried Tom. "Did Dad tell 
you about our subsea radio?" 

113 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

Once started on this subject the two boys and Mr. 
Thorne forgot all else and held an animated con- 
versation which continued without cessation until 
they reached the little river steamer and the boys' 
interests were aroused by new sights. 

Never had the two boys seen such an odd, many 
colored cosmopolitan crowd as thronged the "stelling" 
and the boat. Swathed in cotton, bare-legged and 
with their heads covered with immense turbans of 
red, white, or green the East Indian men stalked 
about. There were Parsees with their odd embroid- 
ered hats; Brahmins with the painted marks of holy 
men upon their foreheads; fakirs in rags, with 
long matted hair and beards, carrying their highly 
polished brass begging bowls and their goatskins as 
their total possessions; fat, sleek "Baboos" in silk, 
protecting their turbanned heads under huge, green 
umbrellas; and East Indian women by the score, 
ablaze with color and laden down with heavy barbaric 
jewelry, their wrists, ankles and arms encircled by 
scores of heavy bands and rings of beaten silver and 
gold, their sleek, black hair bound with dangling 
silver and jeweled ornaments, huge golden hoops in 
their noses — clad, besides, in brilliant embroidered 
jackets, fluttering gauze veils and silken draperies. 

114 



IN SOUTH AMERICA 

A chattering, dark-hued throng that transformed the 
spot to a bit of India. Back and forth among them, 
elbowed the big, burly negroes — "pork knockers," 
as Mr. Thorne called them — each carrying his "bat- 
tell" or gold pan strapped to his pack and all bound 
for the gold and diamond diggings. Chinese there 
were too, prosperous merchants in European gar- 
ments; farmers with huge, saucerlike hats, loose 
trousers and blouses; Chinese women in flapping, 
pajamalike costumes, and toddling Chinese kiddies 
that might have stepped from an Oriental screen. 
To swell the crowd and add to the multiplicity of 
nationalities there were sallow Portuguese, mulattoes, 
quadroons, and octoroons; bronzed English planters; 
dark-eyed Venezuelans; broad-shouldered, mighty- 
muscled "Boviander" rivermen; and half a dozen 
short, deep-chested, stolid-faced native Indians or 
"bucks," as the explorer told the boys they were 
called. 

And such confusion! Such a chaos of live stock, 
baggage, squalling babies, and wildly clucking and 
clacking fowls! How they would ever get straight- 
ened out; how they would ever find their own belong- 
ings, or how the tiny side-wheel steamer could ever 
accommodate them all was a mystery to the boys. 

115 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

But gradually order came out of chaos; the big, 
heavily booted, blue-clad "bobbies" shooed and ber- 
ated and shoved and ordered and helped and at last, 
with a toot of the whistle, the gang plank was drawn 
in, the mooring lines were cast off and loaded to the 
gunwales, the little steamer swung into the swirling 
muddy stream and poked her blunt bow up river to 
the deafening cheers, farewells, and parting shouts 
of the kaleidoscopic crowd upon the stelling. 

"Well, we're off!" exclaimed Rawlins, "We may 
not know where we're going but we're on our way!" 

"Yes, and to think we're way down in South 
America!" cried Tom. "I can't really believe it yet." 

"It isn't much like the popular idea of South 
America, I admit," laughed the explorer who had 
joined them. "But you've only begun to see un- 
expected and surprising things." 

"You'll have to tell us everything," declared Frank. 
"We want to learn all we can and everything's ab- 
solutely new to us, you know." 

"I'll do my best," replied Mr. Thorne, "but even 
I learn something new every time I go into the bush." 

"If we learn where that plane's hanging out, I'll 
be satisfied," declared the diver. 



CHAPTER VII 
OFF FOR THE JUNGLE 

NEVER will the two boys forget that first trip 
up the big, turbid South American river. 
From start to finish it was one never ending 
succession of surprises, interests, wonders and de- 
light. The miles of mangrove swamps, with their 
aerial roots drooping from the branches into the 
water, lured the boys' imaginations with their myster- 
ious, dark depths. A great flock of scarlet ibis, that 
rose from their feeding ground upon a mud flat and, 
lighting on the trees, looked like gorgeous fiery blos- 
soms, brought cries of delight from the boys. They 
watched the big greenheart rafts floating silently 
downstream with their Indian crews lolling in ham- 
mocks beneath the thatched shelters on the logs. Mr. 
Thome pointed out dozing alligators which Tom and 
Frank had mistaken for logs; he showed them the 
giant, lily-like water plants which he said were 
"mucka mucka," and he called their attention to 
countless bright-plumaged birds which flitted in the 

117 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

foliage of the riverside trees. At times the steamer 
swung in so close to shore that the boys caught 
glimpses of frightened, scurrying iguanas or great 
lizards; at other times, it slowed down and stopped 
before some tiny thatched hut at the edge of a clear- 
ing and unloaded merchandise or people into the 
huge dugout canoes that put off from shore pulled by 
bronze-skinned, half -naked men. 

"Are they Indians?" asked Tom, as they watched 
the fellows handling the heavy barrels and boxes 
with ease. 

"No, Bovianders," replied Mr. Thorne, "a mix- 
ture of Dutch, negro and Indian blood. They're the 
best boatmen in the colony. I always have a Bovi- 
ander captain for my boat." 

"What does Boviander mean?" asked Frank. "Is 
it an Indian name?" 

"It has a curious or^-^in," the explorer informed 
him. "It's a corruption of 'above yonder.' In the 
old days, any one who lived up the river from the 
coast was said to live 'above yonder' and gradually 
the expression was transformed to 'Boviander.' " 

"Well, that is funny!" declared Tom. "I never 
would have guessed it." 

"You'll find a lot of queer expressions here," 

118 



OFF FOR THE JUNGLE 

laughed the explorer. "You'll hear the people speak 
of 'taking a walk' when they mean a trip in a canoe 
and you'll hear them say 'topside' when they mean 
some place which is indefinite. They also speak of 
the turns of a stream as 'streets' and they all use the 
native Indian names for birds, animals, and trees. 
They never say 'tapir' but 'maipuri,' a boa or ana- 
conda is a 'camudi,' a camp is always a 'logi' or 
'benab,' a canoe is a 'coorial' and so on." 

"Gosh, I don't believe I'll ever understand them!" 
declared Tom, "but I'm going to try. Can't you get 
one of your Indians to talk? I'd love to hear that 
'talky-talky' lingo you spoke about." 

Mr. Thorne laughed. "All right," he assented 
and, approaching the edge of the upper deck where 
the first-class passengers were quartered, he leaned 
over and beckoned to one of the Indian boys who 
was dozing in a cotton hammock he had swung in 
the shade. 

"Hey, Joseph!" he called. "Makeum for come 
here, this side." 

The Akawoia grinned, stretched himself, and came 
padding on bare feet up the ladder. 

"This fellow Buck name Joseph!" said Mr. Thorne, 

as the two boys looked at the pleasant-faced Indian 

119 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

whose head scarcely reached Tom's shoulder. "He 
one plenty good boy. Makeum for tellum white 
boy how can speakum talky-talky, Joseph." 

Joseph half turned his head and, fixing his eyes 
on the deck, twiddled his toes in an embarrassed 
manner. 

"No makeum for shame!" went on the explorer. 
"This fellows white boys makeum plenty long walk 
topside 'long we. Him wantum sabby plenty — 
wantum sabby Buck talk, wantum sabby bush, how 
can makeum for hunt, how catchum fish. Must for 
tellum, Joseph, must for makeum good fren'." 

The Indian grinned and looked up. "Me tellum, 
Chief," he replied in a soft, low voice. "Me be 
plenty good fren' lon'side him. How you call- 
um?" 

"This fellow makeum call Tom," replied Mr. 
Thorne, introducing the boys, "Nex' fren' makeum 
call Frank." 

Joseph shook hands gravely with the boys and 
smiled in a friendly way. 

"S'pose you want makeum one walk, S'pose no 
sabby bush me tellum like so," he remarked, and 
then, evidently thinking there was nothing more to 
be said, he turned and walked silently away. 

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OFF FOR THE JUNGLE 

"Why, that's easy!" cried Frank as the Indian 
left. "I'll bet I can talk that now. You no sabby 
Tom, me tellum you all same Joseph. How you 
likeum talky-talky like so?" 

"Splendid!" cried Mr. Thorne, and all three roared 
with laughter at Frank's first attempt at talking the 
Indian jargon. 

The banks of the stream had now changed from 
the low mangrove swamps to bluffs and hills of sand ; 
the dense tangle of weeds, mucka-mucka and vines 
had given place to lofty trees. There were heavy 
forests stretching away into the distance; tiny clear- 
ings and cultivated land showed here and there and 
the boys caught glimpses of numerous, open-sided, 
thatched huts among the trees. From time to time 
flocks of parrots flew swiftly overhead, screeching 
loudly as they winged their way across the river; 
herons, blue, gray and white, flapped up at the 
steamer's approach. In backwaters covered with 
gigantic lily leaves the boys saw tiny brown and yel- 
low birds running about, apparently treading on the 
water, and these Mr. Thorne told them were jacanas, 
whose long toes enabled them to walk upon the leaves 
of water plants without sinking. 

Then the current of the river became swifter, the 

121 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

steamer chugged and struggled and panted and Mr. 
Thome explained that the tide had turned. 

"You don't mean to say that they have a tide clear 
up here!" exclaimed Tom in surprise. 

"For nearly one hundred miles up the rivers," the 
explorer assured him. "Of course, the salt water 
doesn't come up here, but the tide backs up the rivers 
so there is a rise and fall of nearly six feet up to the 
first rapids or cataracts as they are called." 

"Jimminy, are there rapids?" asked Frank. 

"Rapids!" ejaculated Mr. Thorne. "Why, my 
boy, there are nothing but rapids. It's just one 
rapid and fall after another." 

"Hurrah, that will be great!" declared Frank. 
"I've always wanted to run rapids." 

"You'll run enough to last you for life," Mr. Thorne 
assured him. "And you'll have enough of them 
and to spare. It's all right running them when you're 
coming downstream, but it's slow, heartbreaking 
work going up. Why, it often takes days to haul up 
a rapid that we shoot in less than an hour coming 
down." 

"I see where I'd like to have that blamed old 
plane," exclaimed Rawlins, who had arrived in time 
to hear the explorer's remarks. "If they see us 

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OFF FOR THE JUNGLE 

coming, there won't be much chance of catching them. 
A plane's the thing for this country." 

"Leave that to the Indians," chuckled Mr. Thorne. 
"When we locate the plane the rest will be easy — 
that is, if we can overcome the Bucks' superstitions 
enough to get them to touch the plane." 

"By glory, that's a good idea!" declared the diver. 
"If they see Indians they won't be suspicious and 
they'll never know we're near until we march in and 
say 'hands up.' " 

"They won't see the Indians," said Mr. Thorne 
decisively. "You don't know the Guiana red man, 
Mr. Rawlins. A shadow is a noisy and tangible thing 
compared with him." 

"Oh, look, there's a ship!" cried Tom, pointing 
ahead to where the masts of a large vessel showed 
above the trees. 

"Yes, she's off Wismar — loading greenheart, I 
expect," assented the explorer. "We're almost at the 
end of our steamer trip." 

"But how did a big ship get up here?" inquired 
Frank. 

"Ocean liners can come up here," replied Mr. 
Thorne. "The river is deep and it's not unusual to 

see several big tramps up here loading greenheart or 

123 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

even farther up at Akyma loading bauxite — alum- 
inum ore, that is. An American company is de- 
veloping a large mine there." 

"Oh, there's the town!" cried Tom. 

A few moments later, the steamer was being 
moored to a rickety wharf before the little settlement 
and the boys were surprised to see a diminutive loco- 
motive and a train of toylike cars standing on a track 
near the landing. 

"Why, they have a railway here!" exclaimed 
Frank. "Pshaw! this isn't wild a bit." 

"It's the jumping-off place of civilization," said 
Mr. Thorne. "The railway merely runs across to 
Rockstone, a settlement on the Essequibo River." 

Rapidly the motley crowd of passengers disem- 
barked, Mr. Thome's two Indians,' reenforced by 
five others who appeared to spring by magic from 
nowhere, shouldered the party's baggage, and Mr. 
Thorne led the way to a large dug-out canoe which 
was moored near the dock. 

"We'll spend the night across the river," he ex- 
plained, as the Indians piled their loads in the 
"coorial" and the boys and their companions seated 
themselves. "There is a hotel here," he continued, 
"but it's a rotten hole and my Boviander captain has 

124 



OFF FOR THE JUNGLE 

a nice place where we can be far more comfort- 
able." 

Pushing off from shore, the Indians grasped their 
paddles and with swift, powerful strokes drove the 
craft diagonally across the river, swung it deftly into 
a small creek, and ran its bow on to a mud bank from 
which a notched log led up to the higher land. 

Standing at the head of the improvised steps was 
a powerfully built, yellow man with grizzled curly 
hair, a heavy mustache and a pair of keen gray eyes. 

"Howdy!" he greeted them with a pleasant smile, 
"Fse please to see you retarn. Chief." 

Mr. Thorne shook his hand warmly. "Glad you 
were here, Colcord," he exclaimed. "These are the 
gentlemen and the boys that are going up river with 
me. Then, turning to the others, "This is Captain 
Colcord, my boat captain," he announced. "And 
there's none better in the colony." 

The Boviander flushed under his dark skin and 
then, shaking hands with each member of the party in 
turn, led the way along a narrow path between the 
trees. 

"You'll have to tell Colcord something of our 
plans," said Mr. Thorne, speaking to Mr. Pauling in 
subdued tones. "He's perfectly dependable and can 

125 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

keep a secret, but we can't accomplish much unless 
he knows what we want to do." 

"Very well," assented the other. "I trust to your 
judgment, Thome." 

Colcord's house proved a revelation to the boys. 
It was merely a huge open shed, with a high, thatched 
roof, a floor of hewn boards raised several feet above 
the earth, and one small room partitioned off by wat- 
tled palm leaves. Its furnishings consisted of a 
rough table of native wood, a few cheap chairs, a 
number of big hammocks, a nickel-plated alarm 
clock, and an American lantern. On the rafters 
overhead were spread woven palm leaf mats on which 
were placed Indian baskets and trays; a huge red 
earthen jug of water stood on a tripod of hard wood 
sticks; a long, highly polished bow and several six- 
foot arrows were laid upon a timber; and a single- 
barreled gun stood in a comer. It seemed scarcely 
more than a camp and might well have been the home 
of an Indian, but they soon found that this rude and 
primitive dwelling was very comfortable and that, 
despite its simplicity and its meager furnishings, no 
necessity was lacking. 

Colcord's wife, who appeared to be of nearly pure 
Indian blood, was busy over a tiny fire in a small 

126 



OFF FOR THE JUNGLE 

shed in the rear and no sooner had the Indian boatmen 
brought the baggage into the house than they joined 
her and seemed perfectly at home. Presently the 
Akawoia, Joseph, appeared, carrying a steaming 
earthenware pot, and Colcord rapidly produced dishes 
and cutlery and set the table. As he moved about 
and Joseph brought in more steaming dishes, the boys 
lolled in the hammocks in the deliciously cool breeze 
and idly watched the chickens, doves, and woefully 
thin dogs that swarmed about the house. They knew 
that less than a mile distant was a town, with railway 
trains, a sawmill, and shipping, and that only a few 
hours' travel by steamer was the big busy port of 
Georgetown, and yet, they could not help feeling that 
they were in the heart of the jungle and far beyond 
the reach of civilization. 

"Gosh, isn't it great!" exclaimed Tom. "This is 
really camping out." 

"You bet!" replied Frank. "I wonder if there 
are any wild animals about." 

"Plenty deer," declared Colcord, who overheard 
Frank. "I made fo' to kill one this marnin'. I 
'spect you folks plenty hungry, no?" 

"Well, I have got a mighty good appetite," admitted 
Tom. 

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RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"Me too," added Frank. "Gee, that food smells 
good!" 

"0. K., then," declared the Boviander. "Jus' 
draw up an' he'p yourselves. I 'spect you're not ac- 
custom' to rough livin' like this, an I have to 'pologize 
fo' not havin' more better." 

"Now don't say a word!" Mr. Thorne admonished 
him, as the party drew chairs to the table. "I'll bet 
they never tasted anything better than this venison and 
yams and pepper pot, and it's like the Ritz compared 
to what we'll be getting from now on." 

Every one declared that Mr. Thorne was right 
and that they had never tasted anything to equal the 
roast venison, the boiled yams, the fried plantains 
and the pepper pot. 

The boys were particularly enthusiastic over the 
last and also over the crisp, toasted cassava bread 
and were greatly surprised to learn that both were 
made from the deadly poisonous bitter cassava 
root. 

"The juice is the poisonous part," explained Mr. 
Thorne. "After it's squeezed out through a cylin- 
drical sieve called a 'metapee' — that's one hanging 
over in the corner — any traces of the poison, which 
is prussic acid, are driven off by baking the meal into 

128 



OFF FOR THE JUNGLE 

these cakes. The poisonous juice boiled down makes 
the pepper pot. It has the property of preserving 
meat and giving it this delicious flavor. It's really 
the national dish of Cuiana." 

"Well, it's good enough to be the national dish of 
any country," declared Rawlins. "Just fill my plate 
up again, Mr. Thorne." 

The meal over, the party made themselves com- 
fortable in the hammocks and, as pipes were lighted, 
the explorer told Colcord that they were going in 
search of an aircraft which had last been sighted 
flying to the south over Wismar. 

"It's of the utmost importance that we find it," he 
said. "The men in it are desperate criminals and 
Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson are oifficials sent out 
by the United States Government to get them. They 
want those men dead or alive — alive preferably — 
and we expect you to help us. We have no idea 
where the machine is, but we have an idea they are 
hiding somewhere not far away. Now do you sup- 
pose we can trail that plane and get the men, Col- 
cord?" 

"Yes, Sir — Chief," replied the Boviander confi- 
dently. "But we'll never fin' it over this side, Chief, 
That airship's went up the Essequibo topside. I 

129 



EADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

was makin' a walk up beyon' Malali for locus' gum 
an' I never cotch a glimmer of it, but oV Charlie — 
the Macusi what lives over Mule Pen side, you know 
— he was huntin' pacu on the Tukumi Creek an' he 
mek to get mos' frighted to death when she fly over. 
Yes, Chief, I sure we make our walk up the Essequibo 
top side we boun' for to find she." 

"Hmm, very likely," agreed the explorer. "Can 
we get a boat at Rockstone?" 

"I can' say rightly. Chief," replied Colcord. "But 
I 'spect you can. Le's see, they's seven of you, an' 
we'll need a plenty good size boat an' 'bout ten men 
an' bowman asides me. You got Joseph, an' Billy 
an' Bagot an' Carlos an' Theophilus an' Abr'ham. 
That's six, an' I reckon I can s'cure t'ree more boys 
an' Boters for bowman, but I can' rightly say 'bout the 



nex' man." 



"Ah can paddle," put in Sam who had been very 
silent. "Ah don' lay to do narthin' ." 

The Bovinander glanced approvingly at the Baha- 
man's powerful arms and shoulders. "Yes, son, I 
'spect you can," he agreed. "You surely is a strong- 
lookin' boy." 

Everything was soon arranged, one of the Indians 
was sent off to notify the men Colcord had in view, 

130 



OFF FOR THE JUNGLE 

and, in preparation for an early start the next morn- 
ing, all turned in almost as soon as it was dark. 

The boys had never before slept in hammocks and, 
although Mr. Thorne and Colcord showed them how 
to wrap themselves in their blankets and lie diagon- 
ally across the hammocks, it was some time before 
they could make themselves comfortable and go to 
sleep. It was a new sensation to be thus going to 
bed practically in the open air and for a long time 
the boys remained awake, listening to the multitude 
of strange and unusual sounds which issued from 
every side. There were chirps, whistles, squeaks, 
and strident songs of insects; thousands of frogs 
croaked and barked and grunted; night birds called 
plaintively; owls hooted and from the forest in the 
distance came a roaring, reverberating bellow which 
Tom was sure must be a jaguar. But Mr. Thorne 
laughed and assured him it was merely a troop of 
howling monkeys or baboons and, to put the boys 
more at ease, he patiently identified each of the un- 
usual noises that disturbed them. Gradually, real- 
izing that there was nothing more dangerous than 
frogs or monkeys to be feared, and assured by the ex- 
plorer that even the vampire bats would keep away 
as long as the lantern was kept burning, the two boys 

131 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

quieted down and, watching the myriad giant fire- 
flies, dropped off to sleep. 

It seemed as if they had scarcely closed their eyes 
when Colcord's cheery cry of "Fireside" aroused 
them and they sat up, yawning sleepily, to find the 
sky across the river pink and gold with the ^coming 
dawn. 

It was cold and chilly and the steaming coffee which 
Colcord had ready was very welcome. 

"Golly, I thought the tropics were hot!" exclaimed 
Frank, as he beat his arms about and tried to keep his 
teeth from chattering. 

Mr. Thorne chuckled. "Not at night — in the 
bush," he replied. "You'll find colder nights than 
this after we get farther up river." 

"Whew! I'll want an overcoat then," declared 
Tom, "or a furnace fire!" 

But the boys' chill was only temporary and a little 
exercise, combined with piping hot food, soon made 
them forget all about the cold morning air and by the 
time they were ready to embark in the canoe and cross 
the river the air was balmy and springlike. 

The boys found little of interest on their ride across 
from Wismar to Rockstone by the railway, for the 
train passed through land which had been stripped 

132 



OFF FOR THE JUNGLE 

of its forests by the lumbermen and the few remaining 
trees stood gaunt and dead above a tangle of weeds 
and shrubs. But at Rockstone they were delighted, 
for, close to the station, flowed the great Essequibo 
River, dark and mysterious, with its shores covered 
by the impenetrable tropic jungle. To them this mile- 
wide, silently flowing stream gave an impression of 
the unknown and savored of adventures to come, for 
Mr. Thorne had told them that its source was near the 
borders of Brazil and that much of its rapid and cata- 
ract-filled course led through country never seen or 
penetrated by white men. 

The boat was ready and waiting, for the Indian 
sent by Colcord had made his way across to Rockstone 
and had arranged everything, and already the addi- 
tional members of the crew and the bowman were 
stowing the outfit in the craft. 

Within half an hour of their arrival the boys and 
their friends were seated under the arched canvas 
awning or "tent" near the stem, the nine Indian pad- 
dlers, with Sam, were in their places, and the bow- 
man, grasping a huge paddle, was perched precari- 
ously on the boat's prow. Colcord stepped on to the 
stern and slipped an enormous paddle through a 
bight of rope. Then, to his shout of "Way-ee-oo!" 

133 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

the ten paddles dug into the water as one, the heavy, 
spoon-bottomed boat sprang forward, and Colcord 
straining at his great steering paddle, headed the 
speeding craft upstream. Five minutes later Rock- 
stone with its houses, its railway station and its docks, 
slipped from sight behind a wooded point and only 
the sullen, mighty river and the endless jungle 
stretched ahead. 



CHAPTER VIII 
ON THE TRAIL 

ROCKSTONE, the last outpost of civilization, 
had been left far behind and many miles 
of river had been covered when at last Col- 
cord turned the boat's bow towards shore and ran 
the craft alongside a fallen tree that sloped from 
the high bank into the water. 

Although the boys had seen much to interest them as 
they paddled upstream, yet they were cramped and 
tired, for, with the exception of a short stop for lunch 
at noon, they had been seated in the boat for nearly 
ten hours. Moreover, after the first few miles, the 
river and its banks were merely a constant repetition 
of what they had seen: walls of tangled jungle like 
a vast green velvet curtain rising from the river; 
vivid flowering trees; great azure blue butterflies; 
noisy carrion hawks ; chattering parrots and ungainly 
yelping toucans along the shore — all reflected as in 
a mirror by the oily brown water. 

They had expected to see Indians and to have the 

135 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

thrill of navigating rapids, but Mr. Thome explained 
that these would not be reached until the following 
day and the boys were glad indeed to step on dry 
land and stretch their cramped legs when the boat at 
last was run ashore and preparations were made to 
camp. 

Rapidly and with perfect system, the Indians com- 
menced work, cutting poles and stakes and in an in- 
credibly short time a big tarpaulin had been spread 
between the trees, hammocks were stretched and 
ready and the savory odors of coffee, bacon, and 
broiling meat were wafted from the campfire where 
Sam was presiding as cook. 

Presently Joseph approached, naked save for a 
scarlet loin cloth, and looking the thoroughly prim- 
itive Indian with a long bow and arrows in his hand. 

"Mebbe you likeum sabby how Buckman shootum 
fish," he remarked. 

"You bet we would!" cried Frank, jumping up. 
And then, remembering that he must talk the Indian's 
jargon, he added, "Me likeum too much. Me come 
see." 

The Indian grinned and, without a word, turned 

and slipped silently into the forest with the two boys 

at his heels. For a short distance he led the way 

136 



ON THE TRAIL 

among the trees and then, turning towards the river, 
came out upon a jutting rocky point. Raising his 
hand as a signal for caution, he stopped, fitted a 
six-foot arrow to his bow, and stepped silently to- 
wards the water's edge. Intently the two boys 
watched, utterly at a loss as to what Joseph intended 
to do. Then they saw him suddenly straighten 
up and quickly draw the huge bow. Like a streak 
of light the long arrow darted into the river. The 
next instant he threw aside his bow, rushed forward, 
and, seizing the floating arrow, dragged a big silvery 
fish upon the rocks. 

"Gosh!" exclaimed Tom, as the two boys rushed 
forward to where the Indian was extracting a barbed 
iron arrow point from the fish. "I never saw any- 
thing like that! Why, he shot the fish with his 
arrow." 

"Say, that is a new way of fishing!" cried Frank, 
as he examined the weapon. "This arrow's just like 
a harpoon with a head fastened to a line and not to 
the shaft. Gee, I wish Mr. Rawlins could have seen 
that." 

Joseph grinned, picked up his bow and arrow, and 
a moment later had shot a second fish. Absolutely 
fascinated, the boys watched him as fish after fish 

137 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

was secured in this novel manner and then, as dark- 
ness was rapidly coming on, the three made their 
way back to camp. 

Mr. Thorne chuckled as the boys enthusiatically 
related what they had seen. "I forgot to tell you 
about that," he said. "You should see them shoot 
fish in the rapids. That's really exciting. And 
they call them too." 

"Oh, now you're fooling!" exclaimed Frank. 
"How can they call fish?" 

"I don't know how they can, but I know they do," 
replied the explorer. "They stand near the water 
and wiggle their fingers and whistle and the fish 
come up. I've seen it scores of times and I'll wager 
you'll see it done too." 

"Well, I suppose we'll have to believe it, if you say 
it's true," said Tom, "but it does sound like a fish 
story." 

Sam's cooking proved highly successful, and as 
they were busily eating, Colcord suddenly jumped up 
and stood listening attentively. The next moment 
the boys heard a slight splash and a grating noise 
and one of the Indians uttered a low cry in his native 
tongue. Immediately from the river came an answer- 
ing call and a moment later, a canoe appeared in the 

138 



ON THE TRAIL 

reflection of the firelight on the river. About it the 
Indians gathered. 

"By glory, we've got visitors!" exclaimed Rawlins. 
"Wonder who they are." 

"Indians," replied Mr. Thorne. "Know who 
they are, Colcord?" 

"No, Chief," replied the Boviander. "I 'spect 
they's Wapisianas or Macusis from topside." 

As he spoke two bronze-skinned figures ap- 
proached the fire, clad only in their scarlet "laps" or 
loin cloths. Without uttering a word they passed 
around the fire, shaking hands with each member of 
the party, and then, squatting down, remained motion- 
less and silent for a full minute. Evidently this was 
bush etiquette for Colcord and Mr. Thome seemed to 
regard it as a matter of course. Then the explorer 
passed the new arrivals a tin of tobacco, Colcord 
filled a tin dish full of food and set it before them, 
and, as the Indians began to eat, the explorer spoke. 

"You fellow makeum walk Rockstone?" he asked. 
"Come all time topside?" 

"Makeum walk Bartica," responded one of the 
red men. "Come Pakarima like so." 

"How you callum, Macusi mebbe?" inquired the 
explorer. 

139 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"Arekuna," replied the other Indian. 

"Eh, eh! Arekuna!" exclaimed Mr. Thome. "You 
sabby white man makeum fly all same bird like so?" 
The explorer made a sound like the exhaust of an 
airplane's motor. 

The Indians glanced sharply at the explorer and 
muttered some words in their own tongue. 

"Me sabby," vouchsafed one of the two at last. 
"Me hearum. No sabby him white man. Me sabby 
him peai. No likeum plenty." 

"Ah, we're getting on the trail!" exclaimed Mr. 
Thome, turning towards Mr. Pauling. "They've 
seen or heard the plane, that's certain." 

"But what do they mean by 'peai'?" asked Tom. 

"Magic, witchcraft," replied Mr. Thorne. "Any- 
thing a Buck doesn't understand, or fears, or thinks 
supernatural, is peai." 

Then, again addressing the Arekunas, he asked. 
"Where you seeum? You sabby what side him 
go?" 

"No seeum," replied the Indian. "Makeum 
noise like so. Him plenty peai. Him go Mai- 
purisi side." 

"Good!" cried the explorer. "Trust the Bucks to 
know where they went even if they didn't see the 

140 



ON THE TRAIL 

plane. I'll bet they're over in that lake on the Mai- 
purisi. Just the place for them." 

"Didn't I say they couldn't sneak around here 
without being seen?" cried Rawlins. 

"Hmm, it doesn't look as if we'd have much trouble 
in tracing them at all events," remarked Mr. Pauling. 
"How far is Maipurisi from here?" 

The explorer turned to Colcord. "How far is it, 
Colcord?" he asked. 

The Boviander considered a minute and then 
spoke rapidly to the Arekunas in their own native 
tongue. Then, when the Indians had answered, he 
replied, "Two days coming down. Chief." 

"That means about six days going up," commented 
Mr. Thome. "There are some pretty bad falls to 
haul over." 

Suddenly Tom was seized with an idea and, whis- 
pering to Frank, rose and began rummaging in a 
chest. 

"What are you boys up to?" asked Mr. Pauling. 

"Going to set up our radio receivers," replied 
Tom. "Perhaps we may hear something. We ought 
to be listening whenever we can." 

"Good idea," commented his father. "After this, 
we'd better keep one set ready in the boat all the 



time." 



141 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

As the two boys busied themselves connecting the 
instruments, the Indians and Golcord watched them 
closely, the red men seemingly fascinated by the 
mysterious-looking cabinets and their bright, nickel- 
plated binding posts and glowing bulbs. Little by 
little they edged nearer and nearer until a circle of 
naked bronze bodies and keen black eyes was formed 
about the boys and their instruments. 

"I'll say they think that's 'peai,' " chuckled Raw- 
lins. "I wonder what they'd do if a signal did come 



in." 



"Be scared half to death," declared Mr. Thorne. 
"Those are fine instruments you have, boys." 

"We made them all ourselves," replied Tom. 
"That is, all except the resonance coil. We got 
that from the sub." 

As Tom spoke, he adjusted the receivers, while] 
Frank moved the coil slowly about. To the Indians 
this evidently savored of some mysterious religious 
ceremony or incantation, and the boys could not 
help grinning as they saw the eager eyes of their 
Buck friends following every motion of the 
coil. 

For some time Frank tried it towards the south, 
but no sound came to Tom's ears, and it was evident 

142 



ON THE TRAIL 

that if the plane were in that direction its occupants 
were not sending. 

"Swing it around to the north," directed Tom 
"We'll see if we can pick up anything from George- 
town or any ship." 

Turning, Frank moved the resonance coil around, 
and the next instant the sharp "d*ee-dah" of a dot 
and dash signal buzzed clearly from the receiver. 
With one accord the Indians tumbled head over heels 
as they strove to get away from the spot and, with 
frightened exclamations and terrified faces, pic'ked 
themselves up and cowered near the fire. 

"Peai!" they exclaimed. "Plenty peai! Me tell- 
um no likeum him fellow!" Every one burst out 
laughing and the Indian paddlers rather shamefacedly 
attempted to grin at their own fright. But the two 
Arekunas would have none of it and jabbered to- 
gether earnestly in their own tongue. 

"By glory!" exclaimed the diver. "If they're 
that scared at the code signals, wouldn't they get a 
jolt if they heard a voice coming in!" 

"Thank Heaven they didn't!" said Mr. Thorne. 
"If they had, I'm afraid they would all have 
deserted." 

Meanwhile the sharp "dees" and "dahs" were 

143 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

coming in on the instruments, and Tom, from force 
of habit, was mentally forming them into letters and 
words. 

"It's some cipher message," he announced pres- 
ently. "No sense to it at all." 

"Take it down," exclaimed his father, suddenly 
interested. "It may be for those rascals with the 
plane." 

Once more the message was coming in and Tom 
rapidly jotted down the words and handed the paper 
to his father. "They're sending the same thing over 
and over again," he said. "That's the third time it's 
been repeated." 

Mr. Pauling eagerly scanned the message and 
slowly a smile and an expression of satifaction 
spread across his features. 

"It's for us!" he ejaculated. "Good news. The 
Devon s taken! Jove! It seems little short of un- 
canny to be getting word from Maidley way up here 
in the jungle." 

"I'll say 'tis!" cried Rawlins. "Bully for the 
Colonel! Where did they get her?" 

"Hurrah!" cried the boys. "Now these fellows 
up the river are in a fix!" 

"He doesn't say where," replied Mr. Pauling. 

144 



ON THE TRAIL 

"Didn't want to* use any name, I suppose — no cipher 
word for that — just says: 'Ship taken. All on board 
held.' He's no fool, Maidley. He knew the plane 
would hear this and took no chances of saying any- 
thing to make them suspicious. I expect he thought 
we might be listening and broadcasted the message 
in hopes we'd get it." 

''Good old scout," declared the explorer. "Just 
like him to do that." 

"Can you send a message back acknowledging 
this?" asked Mr. Pauling, turning to Tom. 

"No," replied Tom. "We didn't bring our send- 
ing set. We thought if we received it would be all 
we needed." 

"Hmm, too bad," commented his father. "Sorry 
Maidley won't know we got it and will keep on send- 
ing. Those fellows may get suspicious if they hear 
the same message coming in night after night." 

"He'll know we got it before to-morrow night," 
declared Mr. Thorne. "I'll send word to him." 

"How?" asked Mr. Pauling. "What magic do 
you use?" 

"Easily enough," replied the explorer. "These 
Arekunas are going to Bartica. They'll be there 
before noon to-morrow and there's a telegraph line 

145 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

from there to Georgetown. Write a message to 
Maidley and they'll take it to Bartica and give it to 
the telegraph office there. It will be in Maidley's 
hands by noon." 

"By Jove!" exclaimed Mr. Pauling. "I didn't 
realize we were so closely in touch with civilization." 

The message was soon written and Mr. Thorne 
handed it to one of the still frightened Arekunas. 
"Must for takeum Bartica like so," he instructed the 
Indian. "No looseum. When makeum Bartica 
side giveum Mr. Fowler. You sabby him fellow?" 

The Arekuna slipped the folded paper into a jag- 
uar skin pouch hanging from his neck, "Me sabby," 
he said. "Takeum Mr. Fowler same way." 

"Can you depend on those fellows?" asked Mr. 
Henderson. 

"Absolutely," Mr. Thorne assured him. "I've 
never known an Indian to lose or forget a message 
and they're strictly honest and trustworthy. I've 
known an Indian to travel over three hundred miles 
through the bush to return ten shillings he'd bor- 
rowed." 

"Not much like our redskins in the States," com- 
mented Mr. Henderson. 

"I don't know about that," declared the explorer. 

146 



ON THE TRAIL 

"I've always found primitive men honest — it's civ- 
ilization that ruins them. These Bucks are little 
more than vagabonds and scalawags once they become 
civilized and live near the settlements." 

Presently the Arekunas silently withdrew, the In- 
dian boatmen sought their hammocks, and the white 
men and boys followed their example. Although 
the boys had become somewhat accustomed to the 
noises of a bush night while at Colcord's house, yet 
here in their forest camp beside the mighty river, 
they felt strange and nervous. The boom and croak 
of frogs and the incessant sounds of myriads of in- 
sects were the same as they had already heard, but 
far louder and more numerous than at Colcord's, 
and in addition there were a thousand and one other 
noises for which the boys could not account and 
which kept their sleepy tired eyes wide open. But 
the Indians were sleeping soundly; from Rawlins' 
hammock, came lusty snores and the boys, despite 
their nervousness, finally lost consciousness and did 
not awaken until aroused by the sounds of the Indi- 
ans starting the fire at dawn. 

The Arekunas had already slipped away down- 
stream, and, by the time breakfast was ready, camp 
had been broken, everything was neatly packed in 

147 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

the boat, and the Indian paddlers were waiting in 
their places. 

For hour after hour they paddled upstream. 
Rocky islands appeared in the river — some bare and 
carved and worn by the water into odd grotesque 
forms, — others covered with trees. The current 
flowed more swiftly and just before noon a dull roar- 
ing sound reached the boys' ears, and, peering ahead, 
they saw a line of flashing white stretching across 
the river from shore to shore. 

"First rapids," Mr. Thorne informed them. 
"We'll have lunch before hauling through, Colcord." 

"Gosh, I call those falls and not rapids!" declared 
Tom as the boat was run ashore on the sandy beach 
of a tiny island. "I don't see how you expect to get 
this big boat through that." 

"Wait and see," chuckled the explorer. 

As Colcord leaped ashore he stopped, bent down, 
and examined the sand. 

"Water Haas!" he exclaimed, pointing to a number 
of small indentations in the beach. 

"What are 'water haas'?" asked Tom. "Some 
kind of animals?" 

"Capybara — sort of giant Guinea pigs," replied 
Mr. Thorne. "They're likely to be in the brush here. 

148 



ON THE TRAIL 

Get your guns and you may be able to shoot one. 
They're good meat." 

Eager for the chance to secure game, the boys 
and Rawlins got out the rifles they had brought and 
started up the beach, following the little trail left 
by the water haas. Presently they noticed that, in- 
stead of one, there were half a dozen tracks and at 
Rawlins' suggestion they separated and cautiously 
approached a tangle of palms and small trees near 
the upper end of the island. 

Gaining the edge of the thicket, Frank, who was 
nearest the river, peered through the screen of fo- 
liage. As he carefully parted the leaves and 
branches, there was a startled snort and three big, 
clumsy-looking brown creatures leaped from the 
damp ground and stood for an instant staring towards 
the boy and sniffing the air suspiciously. So sur- 
prised was Frank at the sudden appearance of the 
beasts that, for a moment, he forget to shoot, and the 
next second the three animals were scurrying out of 
sight. Hastily throwing up his rifle, Frank blazed 
away at the retreating forms. 

"What was it? What did you shoot?" yelled Tom, 
as he and Rawlins came running at the report of 
Frank's rifle. 

149 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"Don't know if I shot anything or what they were," 
replied Frank. "I was so surprised I didn't fire 
till they were running away. They went over there." 

Hurrying to the other side of the thicket, Rawlins, 
who was in advance, gave a shout. "I'll say you 
shot him!" he cried. "Guess it's one of those water 
haas." 

The two boys hurried forward and found the diver 
bending over the dead animal, a curious-looking crea- 
ture with short stiff hair, an enormous head and broad 
blunt snout. 

"Why, he's got webbed feet!" exclaimed Frank 
who was examining his prize. 

"And he does look like a huge Guinea pig,'^ de- 
clared Tom. 

Elated at their success, the boys picked up the 
animal and hurried back to the boat. 

"Yes, it's a water haas or capybara," declared 
Mr. Thorne. "Now we'll have a fine feast to-night." 

"But he's got webbed feet," said Frank. "Can 
they swim?" 

"Can they!" exclaimed the explorer. "Like a fish. 
That's why they're called water haas — it's Dutch 
for water horse. They're as amphibious as seals 
almost." 

150 



ON THE TRAIL 

"Say, let's take a swim!" suggested Tom. "I'm 
hot and the water looks fine." 

"Don't you try it!" cried the explorer. "The 
place is full of perai and you'd surely be eaten alive." 

"Why, what do you mean?" demanded Tom, puz- 
zled. "I thought perai was magic or witchcraft. 
How can that eat us?" 

Mr. Thorne burst out laughing and Colcord, who 
stood near, shook with merriment. 

"Peai is witchcraft," explained the explorer. 
"Perai is a kind of fish — 'cannibal fish,' they're called 
sometimes. They're the most deadly and savage 
creatures in the bush. They'll tear anything that's 
flesh to bits, in a moment. It's lucky I stopped you 
in time." 

"Is that really true?" asked Mr. Pauling. "I've 
read travelers' tales of them, but I always supposed 
they were real 'fish stories.' " 

"Not at all," Mr. Thorne assured him. "Let me 
demonstrate it." 

Picking up a bit of meat, the explorer stepped 
close to the water and tossed it into the river. In- 
stantly there was a splash, a flash of silver, and the 
meat was dragged under. The next moment the water 
fairly boiled with leaping, darting fish, and the on- 

151 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

lookers gazed with amazement as the voracious, 
savage creatures tore and snapped and bit. 

"Gee, I'm glad I'm not in there!" exclaimed Frank. 
"They're like hungry wolves." 

"Worse," declared Mr. Thome. "They seem to 
go blind mad at the smell of flesh, and their jaws 
are so powerful and their teeth so sharp they can 
bite a piece out of a plank. A man would be torn 
to bits — eaten alive — if he went in there." 

"Jiminy, I'd hate to tumble overboard!" exclaimed 
Tom. 

"That's the odd thing about them," remarked Mr. 
Thorne as they started back towards the boat. "They 
won't touch a man if he has clothes on — apparently 
do not recognize flesh if covered by garments. In 
some parts of the rivers they are harmless — never 
touch people — and the natives bathe freely." 

"Well, I'm not taking any chances," declared 
Tom. "I'll go without a bath for a while." 

Embarking once more, the boat was paddled up- 
stream and at the foot of the roaring, rushing falls, 
which the boys now saw were really a series of steep 
rapids, dashing and foaming over the jagged black 
rocks, the craft was run alongside a smooth ledge. 

"All out!" cried Mr. Thorne, leaping ashore. 

152 



ON THE TRAIL 

Filled with interest to discover how the Indians 
would get the heavy boat through that tumbling 
seething mass of water to the river level, twenty feet 
above, the boys scrambled up over the rocks and 
watched every move of Colcord and his men. 

"This isn't a bad spot," commented the explorer. 
"They'll get through without discharging. But, in 
many places, everything has to be taken from the 
boat and portaged for a mile or more around the 
rapids. Sometimes a score of such portages must 
be made in order to travel a dozen miles upstream, 
so you can understand how tedious and slow travel- 
ing in the interior is." 

"This looks bad enough to suit me," declared Tom. 
"I should think the boats would get smashed all to 
bits." 

"They're built for the purpose," replied Mr^^ 
Thorne. "Tough native wood and with spoon-shaped 
bottoms, so they slide off a rock in any direction." 
Some of the Indians had now uncoiled a long light 
rope and were moving upstream, jumping and 
scrambling from rock to rock, at times plunging in- 
to the swirling water up to their armpits or even 
swimming through the racing current, until at last 
they gained a precarious foothold upon a project- 

153 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

ing ledge in midstream, well above the falls. In 
the meantime, others had attached a second line to the 
stern of the boat and stood waiting for orders close 
to the water's edge, while the bowman and Colcord 
braced themselves in bow and stern, grasping their 
immense paddles. 

For a moment the Boviander glanced about, study- 
ing the lashing white foam and the jagged, black 
rocks, casting his eyes over the waiting Indians to 
see that all were ready. Then, with a sharp "Hi-yi!", 
he dug his great paddle into the water. Instantly 
the bowman shoved the craft from shore into the 
current; the men on the bow rope hauled and tugged 
with all their strength; the captain shouted orders 
and threw his weight on his six foot paddle; the 
bowman paddled furiously; the men at the stern 
line bent to their task; and slowly the boat forged 
ahead. With consummate skill the Boviander and 
the bowman swung the craft to right and left, clearing 
the rocks by inches ; the stern line kept it headed into 
the torrent; and foot by foot the boat crept up the 
falls. How the captain and bowman ever kept their 
balance as the boat rocked and pitched and seemed 
about to stand on end was a mystery to the boys, 
but with bodies swaying to the jerking, tossing craft 

154 



ON THE TRAIL 

they strained at their paddles — sweating, grunting, 
shouting, while about the bow the angry waters 
foamed and seethed and the hungry waves leaped 
above the gunwhales. For a moment the craft stood 
motionless, shaking and trembling to the terrific 
strain, and then human muscles and human brains 
won. The craft shot forward, the Indians yelled 
and rapidly gathered in slack, and the next instant 
the boat was safe from the torrent in a calm back- 
water above the falls. 

"Gosh, that was great!" cried Tom, as, leaping 
from rock to rock, the boys made their way towards 
the boat. , 

"I'll say 'twas!" exclaimed Rawlins. "But, by 
golly, if a rope had parted we'd have been in a nice 
fix." 

By the time the passengers were seated the lines 
had been coiled away, the Indians were once more in 
their places, and a moment later the boat was speed- 
ing upstream over a stretch of tranquil water. 

But now the character of the river had changed. 
Sand bars and wooded islands broke its surface; 
the trees along the banks towered upward for over 
one hundred feet; the stream twisted and turned and 
flowed swiftly in dark, wine-colored currents between 

155 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

the islands; and even the birds and foliage seemed 
different. Little fresh water flying fish skittered 
away from the boat, great flocks of twittering swal- 
lows flitted about, clouds of brilliant yellow butter- 
flies floated back and forth across the stream, and 
once or twice the boys caught glimpses of otters swim- 
ming in the river ahead. 

In places, too, gaudy flowers that had fallen from 
the great trees covered the surface of the river with 
a solid mass of color, and the boat seemed to be 
passing over some gorgeous carpet, while the reflec- 
tions of foliage and trees were so perfect that the 
boys had the strange sensation of being suspended in 
mid-air between two forests. 

Very soon, however, the tranquil water came to 
an end and another series of rapids barred the way. 
Once more the men labored and tugged and dragged 
the boat up the falls, and time after time, as the falls 
were reached, the process was repeated. Then Mr. 
Thome announced that they were approaching a really 
dangerous spot and as the boat rounded a bend the 
occupants saw a plunging, rock-strewn cataract, half 
hidden in the mist rising from the roaring water at 
its base. Here all the baggage was taken out and 
carried over the rocks and with only the empty boat 

156 



ON THE TRAIL 

the Indians and the Bovianders prepared for a tug of 
war with the falls. Over and over again they strove 
to gain a foothold on the slippery rocks, and a dozen 
times they were swept struggling downstream. But 
they laughed and yelled and shouted and seemed to 
enjoy the excitement and at last won a stand, waist 
deep in the flood, and by almost superhuman efforts 
dragged their craft to the water above the cataract. 
But the most dangerous part was yet to come. A 
short distance above the falls was a huge whirlpool 
— a dark, sinister mass of water in a basin of steep 
walled rock; deep, threatening, with its current ro- 
tating silently, swiftly around and around while, at its 
center, at the very vortex, masses of foam, bubbles 
and driftwood had been drawn and were constantly 
being sucked suddenly out of sight or thrust bobbing 
above the surface. 

"Ugh! Isn't that a nasty looking spot!" cried 
Tom. "Say, have we got to cross that?" 

Mr. Thorne nodded. "Yes, just sit tight and don't 
jump and you'll be all right," he declared. "If a 
paddle doesn't break we'll get through safely. It's 
the only way and the worst spot on the river." 

As he spoke the captain was testing each paddle, 
examining the blades and handles for possible cracks 

157 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

and at lalst, with the baggage stowed snugly, the 
Indians and Sam in their places, Colcord told them 
that all was ready. 

With fast beating hearts the boys seated themselves, 
Mr. Thorne, Mr. Pauling, Mr. Henderson and Raw- 
lins took their accustomed places and with a "Yip- 
yi!" from the Boviander the paddles dug into the 
water and the coorial shot out upon the swirling black 
surface of the pool. 

With every ounce of their strength, with their muis- 
cles straining under their bronze skins, the men plied 
their paddles and Colcord and the bowman swung 
their weight upon their huge paddles at bow and stern. 
For an instant the boat hung motionless, the bow 
quivered and vibrated to the drag of the current and 
then the craft darted ahead. High above the gun- 
wales boiled the maelstrom as the centre of the whirl- 
pool was reached, the boat -seemed actually to stand 
on end, it slid up a hill of water and ere the boys 
realized it was accomplished the coorial had dashed 
beyond the danger point and was safe in a narrow, 
swiftly flowing channel above the pool. And at this 
instant, just as the boat had gained safety, there was 
a sharp report and one of the Indians tumbled head 
over heels as his paddle broke short at the blade! 

158 



ON THE TRAIL 

"Gee!" cried Frank. "It was lucky that didn't 
happen a minute sooner!" 

"I'll say 'twas!" agreed Rawlins. "We'd have 
been goners if it had, sure." 

"A miss is as good as a mile," laughed Mr. Thome. 
"You have to trust a lot to luck in this work." 

"Same as in diving," remarked Rawlins. 

"Well, Colcord, I guess we can call this a day's 
work," said the explorer as the boat swung into the 
broader river and tranquil water. "Find a good spot 
and we'll make camp for the night." 

The boat was soon run ashore, the tarpaulin was 
quickly stretched and the crew lolled about, glad of 
a chance to rest their weary muscles. 

"I suppose we might as well listen and see if we 
hear anything," suggested Tom, as Sam busied him- 
self with the cooking. 

"Yes, take every chance you get," said his father. 
"We're getting nearer and nearer to the spot all the 
time." 

But no sound came into the receivers and with 
Sam's call to dinner the instruments were laid aside. 

But when dinner was over, the boys once more ad- 
justed their receivers and prepared to listen to any- 
thing that might be passing through the air. Tom 

159 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

clamped the phones to his ears, Frank turned the re- 
sonance coil about and as it pointed towards the 
south, Tom fairly leaped from his seat. 

"Jumping Jiminy!" he exclaimed. "They're 
talking!" 

"What?" cried Mr. Pauling. "Are you sure? 
Get what they say!" 

Tense with excitement, leaning forward with 
breaths coming fast, all were silent, listening with 
straining ears to the faint buzzing sounds from the 
instrument while Tom rapidly jotted down the mes- 
sage. "They've stopped!" he announced at last. 
"I guess— Gosh! What's that?" 

As he had been speaking, Frank, thinking the sig- 
nals over, had turned around and as he did so, sharp 
"dees and dahs" once more issued from the receiver. 
Instantly all were again silent, glancing at one an- 
other with wonder and amazement on their features, 
for the signals were coming in with the coil 
pointed to the east! A moment later the sounds 
ceased and Tom handed the slip of paper to his 
father. 

"By glory!" ejaculated Rawlins. "Some one must 
have answered them!" 

"Sounded like it," agreed Mr. Henderson. "But 

160 



ON THE TRAIL 

it couldn't be any one on the Devon, We know she's 
captured." 

"And it did not come from the direction of George- 
town," said ' Mr. Thorne. "Whoever was sending 
that message is to the east — in Dutch Guiana I 
think." 

"It's meaningless gibberish," declared Mr. Pauling 
who had been studying the sheet of paper. "Just 
numbers and nothing more." 

"Cipher, of course," commented Mr. Henderson, 
*'Well, that proves they were talking to some one who 
replied. Otherwise the two messages would not be 
in the same cipher." 

"I can decode it — if I take time," declared Mr. 
Pauling. "But I suppose if I do, it will be of little 
use — probably in Russian." 

"Well it's blamed good news anyway," cried the 
diver. "It proves the old rascal and the plane are 
still 'topside' as the Indians say." 

"And also that we haven't rounded up all the gang 
yet," added Mr. Pauling. 

"No doubt they landed some one from the Devon," 
suggested Mr. Thorne, "or already had confederates 
in Surinam." 

"In a way I'm glad they have," declared Mr 

161 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

Pauling. "Otherwise they'd not have any one to 
talk with. Better listen a while longer, boys." 

But no other signals came in and at last, yawning 
and tired, the two boys put away their instruments 
and with the others crawled into their hammocks and 
fell instantly to sleep. 




CHAPTER IX 

KENAIMA! 

OR the next three days the boat was worked 
steadily up the river; paddled swiftly 
through long stretches of tranquil water; 
hauled up falls; dragged through rapids and ever 
penetrated deeper and deeper into the heart of the 
vast wilderness. 

From time to time they had met Indians, sometimes 
individuals paddling silently close to shore in tiny 
canoes of bark which Mr. Thome said were known 
as "wood skins"; sometimes families in big dugouts 
accompanied by flea-bitten, woefully thin dogs, naked 
brown children and all their household belongings, 
and once they had paddled up a creek and had 
visited a large Indian village where the boys had 
found a thousand things to interest them. 

But while every Indian was questioned, few could 
give any information in regard to the plane, although 
many had seen or heard it as it had flown southward 
more than a week before. 

163 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

Each day and every night too, the boys had listened 
at their radio sets, but no more messages from the 
plane had been heard and all had begun to think 
that the aircraft had departed and that the long jour- 
ney would prove fruitless. The boys, however, had 
had the time of their lives. They had taken numer- 
ous trips into the bush with Joseph and the other 
Indians. They had shot deer, wild turkeys, pec- 
caries and a tapir, while a splendid jaguar skin and 
two beautiful ocelot hides were safely stowed among 
their belongings as trophies of their prowess as 
hunters, and Rawlins treasured a huge snake skin 
from a twenty foot anaconda that he had secured. 

Much of Mr. Pauling's time had been spent trying 
to decipher the messages the boys had received from 
the plane and the "reds' " confederate, for it was his 
boast that there never had been a secret code which 
he could not interpret. 

"I guess I've had my trouble for nothing," he 
announced one afternoon. "I've got it, but as I 
expected, it's in some foreign tongue— Russian most 
likely. Yet it doesn't look exactly like Russian 
either. It's not German, but whatever it is, it's no 
value to us now. Of course, we can get it translated 
eventually, but I'd give a lot to know what it says." 

164 



KENAIMA! 

"May I see it?" asked the explorer. "Possibly I 
may be able to identify it, even if I can't read it." 

"Certainly," replied Mr. Pauling, handing him 
the sheet he had covered with writing. 

Mr. Thome glanced at the paper. "Why, it's 
Dutch!" he exclaimed. "Here, Colcord, can you 
read this?" 

The Boviander fished a pair of battered spectacles 
from his pocket, adjusted them low on his nose and 
looking, as Tom said, as grave as if he were about to 
preach a sermon, he peered at the writing. 

"Yes, sir, Chief," he declared after a minute's 
study. "I 'spec' I can. I don' comprehen' Dutch 
too much. Chief; but I can tell yo' what it mean." 

"All right, what is it?" replied Mr. Pauling. 

"This firs' one say as how they need help," declared 
the Boviander, as he ran his blunt brown forefinger 
along the lines. "It say how they bus' up the ap- 
peratix an' can't fly an' don' have food." 

"By Jove!" cried Mr. Pauling. "That's good! 
Machine disabled, eh? Good for you, Colcord, we'll 
get them yet. Go on, what's next?" 

The Boviander grinned and peered about over his 
spectacles vastly pleased to find himself the center of 
interest and able to exhibit his superior knowledge. 

165 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

Then, again studying the writing, he continued: 

"I can't 'lucidate all the words, Chief. But here 
'bout it say sometliing 'bout the ship bein' los' and 
some fellow makin' afraid for to talk." 

"Jove! then they know the Devon s taken," ejacu- 
lated Mr. Henderson, "and whoever was talking has 
got cold feet and has quit. That's the reason we 
heard nothing more. Is there anything else. Col- 
cord?" 

"Plenty else," replied the captain, "but this 
specie of Dutch I don' rightly know. Chief." 

"Well, by the great horn spoon, we've found out 
all we want to know!" exclaimed Rawlins. "They're 
here; they're helpless — at least as far as getting 
away is concerned — and they're short of grub. By 
glory! my hunch is working out 0. K., I'll say." 

Only two days' travel now lay between them and 
the Maipurisi district where the plane was supposed 
to be and as they gathered about the camp fire that 
night, plans were discussed and formed as to their 
actions and procedure when they neared the hiding 
place of the two fugitive criminals. 

"I think the best plan is to run up Unuko Creek," 
said Mr. Thorne. "It's scarcely ten miles across 
from there to Maipurisi and we can send a couple 

166 



KENAIMA! 

of the Bucks over to scout and report. Then, when 
we locate the plane, we can go overland, surround 
them and call upon them to surrender while we are 
hidden in the bush. As they can't get off in the 
plane and have no boat or canoe, they'll be helpless." 

"Yes, that sounds like a good scheme," agreed Mr. 
Pauling, "but can you be sure your Indians will man- 
age to keep out of sight? Moreover, if by chance 
they were seen or captured, are you sure they would 
not give away our presence?" 

The explorer smiled. "If you'd ever seen one of 
these Indians stalk game you would not ask the first 
question," he replied. "Do you notice that they 
always usef small bore, muzde-loading guns and 
double "B" shot and yet they kill tapir and jaguar? 
They could only do that by getting so close to their 
quarry that the light charge of shot acts like a solid 
ball. In other words, they creep within a dozen feet 
of the most wary creatures in the South American 
jungle and an Indian who can do that could sneak into 
those fellows' camp and be within arm's reach with- 
out being seen or heard. As for being captured, why 
there's no more chance than of capturing a ghost! 
And if by a miracle they were seen why should those 
rascals ever suspect the Bucks knew anything about 

167 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

them or us, or had any connection with officers whom 
they probably imagine are hundreds of miles distant? 
No, don't worry on that score." 

At this moment a low, plaintive, long-drawn whistle 
was borne faintly from the forest across the stream 
and instantly the Indians leaped up and stood motion- 
less, listening intently and peering apprehensively 
across the river. 

Once more, from the black depths of the jungle, 
came the mysterious sound and hastily gathering up 
their half -finished meal, the Indians came crowding 
close to the group of white men. 

"Eh, eh, Joseph! Why makeum for 'fraid like 
so?" queried Mr. Thome. "What you sabby?" 

Joseph turned fear-wide eyes and terrified features 
towards the explorer. "Kenaima!" he exclaimed in 
a whisper. 

Mr. Thorne whistled. "So that's it!" he ejaculated. 
Then, turning to the Indians, "No makeum 'fraid, 
Joseph! Kenaima no makeum walk this side. No 
huntum you fellow Buckman same way!" 

"Please tell us, what does he mean?" begged Tom, 
utterly at a loss to understand what had frightened 
the Indians or what the explorer was talking about. 
"What is a Kenaima?" 

168 



KENAIMA! 

"The blood avenger," replied Mr. Thorne in a low 
voice. "If an Indian is killed, tribal law demands 
that his slayer must be destroyed, and not only the 
assassin must pay the penalty but all his relatives as 
well. The man chosen to wreak vengeance is the 
'Kenaima' or, as the Indians believe, a man in whom 
the spirit of vengeance takes up its abode until its 
mission is accomplished. Until the Kenaima kills 
his victim he cannot see or speak to any living being, 
but must live alone, ever trailing the one he seeks un- 
til he has wreaked vengeance. He may chose either 
one of two forms — the 'tiger Kenaima' or the snake 
or 'camudi Kenaima.' If the former, he must strike 
down his man with a short club, if the latter he 
must strangle him, but in either case he must not 
kill his victim outright at once. Instead he must 
disable him and then return three days later when 
the wounded man is put out of his misery by the 
Kenaima driving a wooden spear through his body. 
Then the avenger must lick the blood from the spear 
or — ^^so they believe — the spirit of vengeance will not 
leave and the Kenaima will go mad, ranging the 
forests and killing all he meets." 

"Uugh! it makes me shiver," cried Tom, edging 
closer to his father and the fire. 

169 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"And I thought these Indians were peaceable!" 
exclaimed Frank as he glanced nervously about. 

"So they are — usually," declared Mr. Thorne. 
"But they have their own laws and customs and the 
Kenaima is one of them. Nothing can stamp it out." 

"By glory, I'd hate to kill one of them!" exclaimed 
Rawlins. "But what happens if the fellow gets 
away — reaches civilization for instance?" 

"He never gets away," the explorer informed him 
gravely. "The Kenaima is tireless, relentless. If 
one is killed, another takes his place and there are 
two deaths to avenge. Why, I've known a Kenaima 
to trail his victim into Georgetown and strike him 
down on the street!" 

"By Jove!" ejaculated Mr. Pauling. "And these 
Indians think there's one about, eh?" 

"They think that whistle was one," replied Mr. 
Thome. "I can't say, but I know the Bucks claim 
the Kenaima warns friends to keep away by uttering 
a whistling sound. He must not be seen and the 
Indians are deathly afraid when they hear it. No 
power on earth could induce one of these men to 
cross that river to-night or to enter the jungle over 
there to-morrow." 

"Great Scott, I don't blame 'em!" declared the 

170 



•s- 



KEN AIM A! 

diver, "Say, I wonder who the poor devil is that 
he's after!" 

"Gosh I won't be able to sleep to-night," said Tom. 
"It makes my blood run cold, just to think of it." 

"Nonsense!" exclaimed his father. "Probably 
that whistle was merely a night bird of some sort. ^f)? 
These Indians are superstitious and imagine all sorts , <^ 
of things. Besides, we have nothing to fear. None Jr 

of us has injured an Indian." '''' ^ /^ "Ht^ 

But despite Mr. Pauling's assurances and the fact 
that after a time the Indians gradually drifted back 
to their own fire and crawled into their hammocks, 
the boys tossed and remained wakeful for hours, 
starting up at each unusual sound and listening with 
straining ears for the uncanny, mysterious whistle. 
But it was not repeated and at last, worn out and j^ 

sleepy, the boys' drowsiness overcame their nervous ^ 

fears and the gruesome blood avenger was forgotten 
in a dreamless slumber. 

With the bright sunshine of the following day it \. 

seemed very silly to have been afraid of the supposed 
Kenaima and the boys discussed it without the least 



">=. 



shivery sensations running up and down their spines X; 
as had been the case the night before. But they i 

noticed that as the boat left camp, the Indian paddlers 

171 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

kept close to shore and glanced furtively across the 
river and that even Colcord seemed to feel relieved 
when they reached a bend and the locality of the 
strange whistling sound was left astern. 

But even then the Indians acted strangely. Here- 
tofore, they had laughed and joked or had sung rol- 
licking chanteys in unison to the strokes of their 
paddles, but to-day they were quiet, talking together 
in low tones, constantly edging the boat towards the 
center of the river, despite Colcord's efforts and com- 
mands, and plying their paddles more vigorously than 
ever before. 

"I believe there's something afoot," declared Mr. 
Thome. "I've lived a long time among these people 
and I'm convinced they have a sixth sense — mental 
telepathy or something — by which they know intui- 
tively when there is danger near and I'm beginning 
to think that there may be a Kenaima about." 

"Why don't you ask them?" inquired Mr. Hender- 
son. 

"Torture wouldn't force them to tell," responded 
the explorer. "Even to mention the avenger by name 
is considered dangerous — I'm surprised that Joseph 
dared utter the word last night." 

"But if he's only after one person, why should 

172 



KENAIMA! 

they be afraid?" asked Frank. "They know he's not 
after them." 

"Very true," replied Mr. Thorne. "But they fear 
that he may not have driven the spirit of vengeance 
from his body — if he's killed his man — and that 
being the case he is liable to kill and attack any one." 

"Hmm, uncomfortable sort of chap to have at large 
in the bush," commented Mr. Pauling. "Does that 
ever occur?" 

"Yes, frequently," said Mr. Thorne. "It may 
seem preposterous to us, but the Indians believe so 
thoroughly in their superstitions that if a Kenaima 
does not succeed in carrying out his entire purpose 
he goes crazy and does run amuck." 

"Ah, I understand, sort of auto suggestion," re- 
marked Mr. Pauling. 

It was now time to think of stopping for the noon- 
day rest and lunch and at Mr. Thome's orders, Col- 
cord headed the boat towards shore. 

Instantly, the Indians stopped paddling, jabbered 
excitedly together and then one of their number spoke 
vehemently to the Boviander in the Akawoia tongue. 

"He say they not goin' make camp ashore. Chief," 

announced Colcord. "They boun' for to make stop 

at a islan'." 

173 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

Mr. Thorne raised his eyebrows, "Oh, very well," 
he replied. "It's just the same as far as Fm con- 
cerned." 

"Not taking any chances, I see," laughed Mr. Hen- 
derson as the mollified Indians again took up their 
paddles and headed for a small barren island in mid- 
stream. 

While Sam was cooking lunch, the two boys and 
Rawlins strolled about the island, hunting for turtle 
eggs in the sand and amusing themselves by chasing 
the big lizards that ran scuttling across the peb- 
bles. . , 

As they reached the upper end of the island, the 
river beyond a sharp turn came in view and the boys 
called the diver's attention to hundreds of great black 
birds, wheeling and circling above the trees half a 
mile distant. 

Rawlins looked at them a moment. "They're 
buzzards," he announced. "Vultures — ^wonder what 
they've found up there." 

"Gee, but there's a bunch of them!" exclaimed 
Tom. 

Then, at Sam's shout, they hurried back to the boat 
and busied themselves with their meal. 

As the boat once more moved upstream and passed 

174 



KENAIMA! 

the island, the great flock of buzzards still soared in 
the clear blue sky above the forest. 

"What do you suppose they've found?" Frank 
inquired of the explorer. "They were there when 
we walked about the island. Isn't it funny they 
don't go down and eat if they've found a dead 
animal?" 

''Possibly it's a wounded creature," replied Mr. 
Thorne. "They often follow a sick or injured 
animal until it dies. Or again there may be a king 
vulture there. The black rascals won't dare touch 
carrion until the king's gorged himself." 

"King vulture!" exclaimed Tom. "What's he?" 

"It's a large species of vulture — ^light colored — 
sort of creamy white with red and blue head, and 
nearly as big as a condor. They always go singly 
and if one of them alights near a carcass, the black 
vultures keep off" until he's finished. That's why 
they're called king vultures." 

"I'd like to see one," declared Frank. "Let's go 
over and see if he's there and what they've found." 

"Very well," laughed Mr. Thorne, glad to humor 
the boys' curiosity. "Whatever it is, is near the 
river. Colcord, run over to that point and we'll 
have a look at what the buzzards are after." 

175 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

As the boat approached the spot, the boys saw 
that trees and rocks were black with the loathsome 
birds which rose on flapping wings as the craft 
touched the shore and the boys and the others sprang 
on to the rocks. 

Whatever had attracted the scavengers was evi- 
dently just within the verge of forest and climbing 
the bank, Rawlins, who was in advance, saw a huge 
white and black bird flap up from a clump of grass 
a few yards away. 

"There goes the old king!" he exclaimed. 

Anxious to catch a glimpse of the great bird, the 
boys stopped and craned their necks and the diver 
stepped forward towards the clump of coarse grass. 

The next instant a cry of mingled horror and sur- 
prise rang through the forest and Rawlins, pale and 
with a strange expression on his face, came hurrying 
back. 

"Don't go in there!" he cried. "Come on back to 
the boat, boys!" 

"But what— what is it?" cried Tom. "What did 
you see? You look as if you'd seen a ghost!" 

"Worse!" exclaimed the diver. "It's a man! A 
man staked out — " 

"A man!" yelled Frank and then, seized with sud- 

176 



KENAIMA! 

den terror, the two boys turned and fled headlong 
towards the boat. 

"You mean there's a human body in there?" de- 
manded Mr. Pauling who, attracted by Rawlins' 
excited tones, had hurried forward. "Come on, 
brace up, Rawlins! A dead man can't hurt you! 
We can't leave a human being to be eaten by vul- 
tures." 

With a great effort, Rawlins recovered himself. 
''Guess it was the shock of seeing him," he declared, 
rather shamefacedly. "But hy glory, it is a rotten 
sight!" 

"Rotten or not we'll have to bury him," declared 
Mr. Pauling. "He's an Indian I suppose." 

"Indian nothing!" cried Rawlins. "That's the 
worst of it! It's a white man!" 

"By Jove!" ejaculated Mr. Pauling. "Who could 
it be?" 

The next instant they had reached the thicket and 
at the sight which greeted them, even Mr. Pauling, 
Mr. Henderson and the explorer drew back filled 
with nauseating horror. 

Stretched at full length upon the ground was the 
body of a man, with a long staff of wood driven be- 
tween his shoulders and pinning him to the earth. 

177 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

And then, as they took a second glance, horror gave 
way to amazement, for fringing the dead man's face 
pressed against the forest floor was a huge red beard! 

"Jumping Jupiter, it's he!" cried Rawlins. "Old 
Red Whiskers himself!" 

"And killed by a Kenaima!" exclaimed Mr. 
Thorne. 

"Jove, no wonder those Indians were nervous!" 
ejaculated Mr. Pauling. 

"I'll say they had reason to be!" declared Raw- 
lins. "But what in blazes started a Kenaima after 
this guy do you suppose?" 

Mr. Thorne had stepped to the edge of the trees. 
"Come here, Colcord," he called, "and bring a 
couple of shovels along. Better bring Sam too. No 
use trying to get one of the Bucks." 

But when the Boviander arrived, he took one 
glance at the body and then, throwing down the 
shovels raced back to the boat. Too much Indian 
blood flowed in his veins for him to approach a vic- 
tim of the Kenaima and as he reached the boat a low, 
terrified wail arose from the throats of the Indians: 
"Kenaima! Kenaima! Kenaima!" 

Leaping into the craft they seized their paddles. 

"Come on!" shouted Mr. Thorne. "Run for your 

178 



KENAIMA! 

lives! They're crazed with fear! They're going 
off!" 

Shouting to Colcord and the Indians, the explorer 
tore down the bank and across the rocks with the 
others at his heels. Already the boat was several 
yards from land, but as he heard Mr. Thome's com- 
mands and realized what he was doing, Colcord 
checked the boat, uttered sharp orders to the Indians 
and with Sam's help swung the boat ashore. The 
four men and the boys leaped in and instantly the 
terrified Indians dug their paddles into the stream 
and drove the boat madly from the accursed spot. 

"Too bad, but it can't be helped," muttered Mr. 
Thome. "I hate to leave him, but there's nothing 
to be done." 

"Well, he's tossed many a poor devil to the sharks!" 
exclaimed Rawlins. "So I guess it kind of evens 
up things. But by glory, I'd like to know where his 
mate is." 



CHAPTER X 

RED BEARD SEALS HIS DOOM 

FAR up in the Guiana jungles and strangely 
incongruous and out of place in the heart 
of the bush, a seaplane rested half drawn 
upon the shore of a small lake. High above tlie 
mighty trees it had flown from Georgetown, follow- 
ing the course of the great river stretching like a 
silver ribbon through the endless jungle and like a 
giant bird it had circled and swooped to the surface 
of Maipurisi Lake. For a hundred miles and more 
its occupants had seen no break in the forest, no sign 
of civilization, no house or clearing save the scattered 
thatched benabs of Indians or the small, half-cleared 
patches of forest that marked the red mens' gardens. 
Hounded from one secret rendezvous to another, their 
submarine wrecked and many of her crew killed in 
a collision; with their own steamship blown up in 
St. John's harbor and with a destroyer hot on their 
trail, the master mind of the gang of international 
rogues and his trusted assistant had sought refuge 

180 



RED BEARD SEALS HIS DOOM 

in the heart of unknown Guiana. Confident that 
they had thrown their pursuers off their track; cer- 
tain that their fellows had hoodwinked their eneniieG 
and had wrecked the destroyer in the Bocas, and con- 
gratulating themselves on their clever ruse of boldly 
entering Demerara and departing in an airship while 
posing as explorers, yet the two rascals were taking 
no chances. 

They well knew that the men trailing them were 
no amateurs; that they were matching wits with the 
most resourceful members of the Secret Service and 
they also knew that their enemies, by almost uncanny 
intuition, had foreseen and had checkmated theii 
every move for weeks past. There was a chance 
that in some way their well-laid plans had miscarried; 
that the destroyer had escaped destruction, and that 
finding — as they inevitably must — that the story of 
the Devonshire was a myth and that an aircraft had 
left the Devon, Mr. Pauling and the others would 
leave no stone unturned to capture the ship and hei 
crew. The two arch fiends had no desire to be 
present when this took place. 

Months before this they had kept British Guiana 
in view as a last resort in case of just such an emer- 
gency as had arisen, for Van Brunt had told of an 

181 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

ancient ruined city hidden in the heart of the un- 
explored district. A city of a prehistoric race up- 
on the shores of a great lake and within the ruins of 
which were vast stores of golden ornaments and 
bullion. But he had never divulged the exact local- 
ity of this lost and supposedly fabulous golden city 
of Manoa — the El Dorado that sent Sir Walter Ra- 
leigh on his travels. Van Brunt was no fool and he 
knew his fellow rogues too well to trust them with his 
secret, but he had sworn that, should occasion arise, 
he would accompany them and guide them to the 
lost city. 

But Van Brunt had met a sudden and violent 
death upon the tramp and his secret had died with 
him. Not until the two men in the plane had looked 
down from the clouds upon that vast, illimitable sea 
of green stretching away in billowing hills to the 
distant mountains, did they realize what a hopeless 
task it would be to locate the city by the lake. That 
mattered little, however. For the present, they 
planned merely to hide for a short time, to await 
word from confederates in Dutch Guiana that the 
coast was clear and then, by an easy flight, travel 
into the Dutch colony, gather their men together to 

resume their interrupted activities and wreak ven- 

182 



RED BEARD SEALS HIS DOOM 

geance on those who had relentlessly hunted them 
down. So, having left every trace of civilization 
far behind, and feeling confident that even the 
Americans would never dream of attempting to trail 
them into the heart of the bush, they selected Mai- 
purisi as a promising spot and swiftly dropped to 
the smooth surface of the lake. 

But fate was against them. As their great plane 
dropped below the tree tops and, with the cessation of 
the motor's exhaust, skittered across the black surface 
of the forest lake, an unseen, undreamed of snag 
lay hidden among the lily pads and with a rending, 
sickening sound, the thin skin of their boat was rip- 
ped open for a dozen feet. The propeller had not 
ceased to revolve and realizing their one chance lay in 
making the shore, the pilot switched on the motor 
and slowly the crippled plane dragged across the 
few hundred feet of water until its bow grated on 
the sand. 

With the after half of its hull submerged, injured 
beyond repair, but safe from sinking, the now use- 
less aircraft rested like some huge wounded bird 
in the shelter of the overhanging trees. 

Cursing and raging, the two men clambered out. 
Their plight was indeed serious and none realized it 

183 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

better than they. The machine in which they 
had expected to fly so easily to the Dutch colony was 
absolutely useless; they had no boat, canoe or other 
craft and to tramp through the bush to civilization 
would, they knew, be practically impossible, even 
had they known the way. They were as effectually 
stranded as though marooned on a desert island in 
mid-ocean and, worst of all, they were not over sup- 
plied with provisions. They had counted on staying 
but a few days in hiding and had carried supplies 
accordingly and now, for all they knew, they might 
be weeks in the jungle. They had no firearms save 
their automatic pistols and as neither was fa- 
miliar with the bush or an experienced hunter, they 
felt sure that they would starve before they could se- 
cure enough game to keep them provided with food 
if they had to do their killing with their pistols. 

Their only hope was in their radio. With this 
they could communicate with their friends and make 
known their plight, but even if their fellows in Sur- 
inam started out to rescue them they knew it would 
be many days — weeks perhaps — ^before their friends 
could traverse the country and paddle up the rivers 
to the spot where they were stranded. Moreover, 

184 



RED BEARD SEALS HIS DOOM 

they did not know their exact position. They had 
followed the courses of the Demerara and Essequibo 
rivers in a general way, but they had cut across 
forests between the streams and their map showed 
no lake to correspond with Maipurisi. And worst 
of all there was no one at fault, no one to blame 
but fate and so, to relieve their feelings, they cursed 
their pursuers, cursed their luck, cursed every- 
thing and everybody until they could curse no more. 

But swearing did no good. The parrots screamed 
and the monkeys chattered mockingly from the 
tangled tree tops. A bold carrion hawk cocked his 
head on one side and screeched derisively and a 
big alligator, lifting his head cautiously above the 
surface of the lake, cast a baleful eye upon them 
and promptly submerged. 

Then, realizing that whatever the future held they 
must live for the present, the two men ceased their 
futile ravings and busied themselves salvaging every- 
thing possible from the crippled plane. The radio 
set was unhurt, their pistols and ammunition were 
safe; they found matches in watertight containers 
and there was a small ax. But much of their food 
was ruined. It had been stowed in the hull and 

185 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

while the canned goods were of course uninjured, 
the flour, sugar, salt and dry provisions were water 
soaked and ruined. 

Between them and starvation were provisions for 
less than three days, aside from what game they 
might be lucky enough to obtain, and as they once 
more commenced to curse in half a dozen languages, 
the rain came down in torrents-. Their only shelter 
was the plane and splashing through the water they 
clambered aboard and shivering and drenched cow- 
ered in the protection of the broad wings. Chilled 
to the bone, utterly miserable they sat there, until 
at last, unable to endure it any longer, the huge red- 
bearded giant jerked out an oath and leaping ashore, 
gathered wood and pouring gasoline over it suc- 
ceeded in starting a fire. 

Encouraged by the warmth, both fell to work and 
ruthlessly cutting struts and stays, dragged the wings 
of their machine ashore and by dint of hard work 
managed to brace and guy them into position to 
form a water-tight shed. A portion of another 
wing served to keep their bodies from the sodden 
ground and had they been well supplied with food 
their predicament would not have been so bad. 

Misfortunes seldom come singly, however, and 

186 



RED BEARD SEALS HIS DOOM 

when, in somewhat more cheerful mood, they 
attempted to get into communication with their 
friends by radio, they discovered that the apparatus 
would not work. Fortunately for them, the red- 
bearded man was an expert mechanic and electrician 
and he diligently set to work. The motor was still 
in good condition and after he had overhauled the 
instruments and had set them up on shore the motor 
was started and the batteries recharged. 

All this took time, however, and in the meantime 
the slender stock of provisions was dwindling at an 
alarming rate. They tried adding to their larder 
by hunting, but with no success. The birds kept high 
in the trees, the pheasants and wild turkeys they 
flushed gave them no chance of a standing shot and 
the only animals they saw were agoutis that flashed 
out of sight like streaks of brown light and a few 
monkeys romping among the branches far above their 
heads. They had no knowledge of trapping, they 
possessed no fishing tackle and when, in desperation, 
they succeeded in shooting an alligator, the creature 
promptly sank and was lost. Knowing nothing of 
the bush and fearing to poison themselves, they re- 
frained from eating the berries, fruits, and nuts 
which they found. Had they but known it, they 

187 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

could have sustained life for weeks on the Souari 
nuts and palm berries that were abundant all about 
their improvised camp. 

Even the narrow trails and .paths through the forest 
were meaningless to them and their untarained eyes 
could not distinguish between the game trails and an 
Indian pathway which led to a large Akuria village 
less than five miles distant. And when at last their 
radio was in working order and they sent out their 
first message calling for help and the answer came 
back, their worst fears were realized. The D^von 
had been taken, those on board were prisoners and 
their friends in Surinam not only stated that they 
were suspected and dared not attempt an expedition, 
but added that the Americans had left for the bush, 
that they were even now in the interior and that to 
attempt to communicate by radio would be merely to 
divulge their whereabouts to Mr. Pauling and his 
party. 

Resourceful, bold and self-confident as the two 
were, yet now they could see nothing but death or 
capture in store for them. Indeed, if some miracle 
did not intervene, death would most certainly be 
their portion, for they weU knew that to be taken 
prisoners meant an end on the gallows or in the 

188 



RED BEARD SEALS HIS DOOM 

electric chair for them and both vowed to take their 
own lives before submitting to their pursuers. 

But as long as they were alive there still remained 
a chance that they might escape. The Americans 
might fail to locate them — although knowing that 
the boys possessed the latest devices in the way of 
radio instruments they were confident the messages 
which had passed between themselves and their con- 
federates had been heard — and in the past they had 
always managed to slip out of the tightest places 
by some means. 

Their one hope was in a boat, in a craft of some 
sort in which to navigate the lake and the rivers. 
They swore and racked their brains striving to de- 
vise some means of constructing a raft or a make- 
shift which would float. With their single, short- 
handled ax it was an impossible task to cut trees 
large enough to support their weight — and even had 
it been possible this would require so much time 
that the last of the food would be gone ere they could 
embark. Then they attempted to make use of the 
plane's wings and although these floated, the men's 
weight sank them so low that the hollow surfaces 
were ankle deep with water. Moreover, they were 
too clumsy and unwieldy to navigate. 

189 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

In every effort, every plan, they were balked and 
then, when their case seemed utterly hopeless, fate 
suddenly seemed to favor them. In a despairing 
attempt to secure something to eat, the two had 
pushed through the forest until, a mile or more from 
their stranded aircraft, they had come out at a small, 
dark creek and there, drawn upon the bank, was a 
canoe. Beside it a naked Indian was squatting, 
cleaning a string of fish and the next instant the 
two desperate men had leaped from cover and had 
seized the dug-out. The Indian, startled at this sud- 
den and unexpected appearance of the unkempt, wild- 
looking men, had uttered a frightened cry, and drop- 
ping his fish, had sprung away. But as he saw the 
strangers taking possession of his craft and realized 
they were human beings and not spirits or "bush 
devils" he rushed to the canoe, jabbering excitedly 
in his native tongue and strove to prevent the rascals 
from shoving his boat into the stream. 

But he might as well have essayed to stem the flow 
of the river or to argue or plead with the forest trees. 
The "reds" were desperate ; a human life more or less 
meant nothing to them and the red-bearded giant 
whipped out his pistol and fired. With a gurgling 
moan the Akuria staggered back, swayed drunkenly 

190 



RED BEARD SEALS HIS DOOM 

and dropped limply upon the muddy shore. The 
murderer, seizing a paddle swung the canoe into the 
creek and headed it towards the lake. 

But their crime had been witnessed. Unseen 
among the trees, a mere brown shadow in the jungle, 
the dead Indian's companion had peered from his 
hiding place and had seen all. And although the 
two in the canoe never dreamed of it, they were nearer 
to death at that instant than ever before in their lives 
of crime. 

Slipping a tiny arrow into his long blowpipe, the 
watching Indian rested the deadly weapon across a 
low-growing branch and with a puff of his breath 
the fatal dart flashed silently through the air straight 
at the red-bearded fellow's chest. But at the same 
instant the man leaned backward to avoid an over- 
hanging limb and the tiny messenger of death sped 
by and dropped harmlessly into the water unseen 
and unsuspected by the intended victim. Before 
another dart could be fired, the canoe had slipped 
behind a bend and the Indian, baffled, stepped from 
his hiding place and hurried to the side of his dead 
tribesman. A single glance sufficed to show that he 
was beyond human help and only stopping to cover 
the body with broad palm leaves, the Akuria sprang 

191 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

into the jungle and silently as a shadow raced along 
a dim and indistinct trail toward the distant Akuria 
village. 

As he came into the clearing and uttered the 
moaning wail that told of death, the Akurias swarmed 
about like a hive of angry bees. Instantly two men 
were despatched in a canoe to bring in the body of 
the murdered Indian and with scowling brows, flash- 
ing eyes and vehement gestures, the villagers gathered 
about their wrinkled old chief, demanding venge- 
ance. Gravely the old man spoke, promising that 
tribal law and tribal customs would be followed to 
the letter and as the women and boys drifted back 
to their huts, the chief and the older men entered the 
great, conical-roofed house in the center of the village 
and seated themselves in a circle with the younger 
men standing about. 

Presently, from his sacred hut, the "peaiman" or 
medicine man approached, his face concealed by a 
baltata mask, a gorgeous feather crown upon his 
head, strings of tinkling seeds about his neck, his 
body hideously painted and bearing a calabash rattle 
in one hand and a carved and decorated staff in the 
other. 

Prancing and dancing, chanting a low, monotonous 

192 



RED BEARD SEALS HIS DOOM 

dirge, the peaiman moved through the silent throng 
of Indians to the side of the fire in the center of the 
immense house. Squatting beside the flames, the 
medicine man made mystic figures in the air with his 
wand, muttering in a low voice meanwhile, and punc- 
tuating his words with angry shaking of his calabash 
rattle. At last he straightened up, fumbled in the 
monkey-skin pouch at his side and drew forth a 
bundle of feathers tightly wrapped with bark fiber 
so that only the ends of the quills were visible. 
Holding the bundle forth, the medicine man spoke 
and gravely and silently the men approached, each 
in turn drawing a feather from the bundle. 

As the plumes were drawn from their covering 
and showed green, red, yellow or blue, sighs or low 
moans came from the lips of those who drew them, 
until at last, the Indian who had witnessed the mur- 
der of his fellow approached and drawing a feather, 
uttered a cry of triumph as he held it up for all to 
see. The plume he had drawn was black as night! 

The next second he had slipped away and the 
gathering Indians, preceded by the medicine man, 
filed from the house and squatted on the bare ground 
without; all eyes fixed upon a small hut near the edge 
of the forest. Presently from this, a weird figure 

193 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

emerged. Upon its head was a halolike crown of 
macaw feathers, and a'bout its sihoulders and waist 
were mantles of ink black plumes of the Curassow 
or "powi." From head to foot the copper brown 
skin was hidden under a coat of scarlet paint striped 
and spotted with black and white, with two staring 
eyes and a grinning, fang-filled mouth painted upon 
the chest. In one hand he held a long bow and 
arrows, in the other a short, carved, paddle-shaped 
club of dark, heavy wood. 

Stepping to the edge of the jungle, the man turned 
and faced the silent waiting tribesmen. For a mo- 
ment he stood there, motionless as a statue, and then, 
with a swift movement, he tore off his feather head- 
dress, cast it on the ground, tossed his bow and 
arrows beside it, whirled his club about his head 
and with a ringing, blood-curdling scream, leaped 
into the forest and disappeared. 

The tiger Kenaima was on the murderer's trail! 



CHAPTER XI 
VENGEANCE 

WITH hopes revived the red-bearded man 
and his companion paddled their stolen 
canoe up the creek and after some 
trouble reached the lake where their dismantled plane 
was drawn upon the shore. 

Now that they had a craft all their cocksureness had 
returned to them, for they knew that in the maze of 
waterways they could escape from their pursuers. 
Now that luck had again turned in their favor they 
had no fears but what they would ultimately reach 
some port where they would be safe. Moreover, the 
matter of food did not trouble them. They knew 
that there were Indians scattered through the forest. 
Van Brunt had told them that all the Guiana tribes 
were mild, peaceable people and they felt confident 
that they could wrest supplies from the red men even 
if they had to shoot them down to accomplish their 
ends. 

But they were not such fools as to start out without 

195 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

some supplies and necessities. There were still a 
few provisions remaining in their shelter, as well as 
matches and other necessities, and beaching their 
canoe, they hastily gathered what belongings they 
desired and pushing off deserted their hapless air- 
ship with a curse and paddled towards the nearest 
river. Before they had started, however, they had 
studied their maps and had laid their plans. Al- 
though the Maipurisi Lake was not shown, they knew 
in a general way where they were and they judged 
that Mr. Pauling and his companions would follow 
the shortest and most direct route, for they did not 
delude themselves with the idea that the Americans 
were ignorant of their hiding place. In fact, they 
felt confident that their radio conversation had been 
overheard and while it had been in cipher and in 
Dutch at that, they had too much respect for their 
enemies' intelligence and experience to assume that 
the Secret Service men had been unable to translate 
their messages. 

The leader, like all successful crooks, always acted 
on the theory that those who sought him knew far 
more than he planned to have them and he invari- 
ably made his plans accordingly. So now he 
reasoned that they would have information that the 

196 



VENGEANCE 

plane had passed over Wismar headed southward, 
that they would follow up the Demerara River and 
that having heard his radio signals and thus having 
located him, they would cut across by one of the 
streams that led towards Maipurisi. Accordingly, he 
decided that the only safe route was to make their 
way to the Essequibo, descend that river and then, 
before they reached the outskirts of civilization, 
follow some tributary that led westward to the Ven- 
ezuelan boundary. Once in that republic they 
would be far more secure than even in Dutch Guiana, 
and, moreover, in order to reach the Dutch colony 
they would be obliged to cross districts where Mr. 
Pauling's party had already passed and where, no 
doubt, watch would be kept for them. 

But for once the crafty master mind of the cut- 
throat gang had reasoned erroneously. He had not 
taken the Indians into consideration; he did not 
dream that these primitive savages were the most 
observant of people; that an airplane, even flying 
thousands of feet above their villages, would be 
heard and seen and would cause such wonder and 
fear that the news of its passage would be spread far 
and wide. It never entered his mind that the 
Americans were accompanied by Indians and were 

197 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

guided by a man who had spent years in the bush 
and was thoroughly familiar with Indian ways and 
Indian character. And so, as, mightily pleased at 
the good fortune which had fallen them, the two men 
headed their canoe westward towards the Essequibo, 
they were running straight into the clutches of their 
enemies. 

Had they but known of the sharp eyes that watched 
their every movement and of the sinister being who, 
armed with the sacred Kenaima club, was threading 
the jungle in their direction, they gladly would have 
sought the Americans, for the punishment which 
awaited them in the Courts of Justice was nothing 
compared to the awful vengeance that lurked in that 
hideously painted savage on their trail. 

In their aircraft, speeding through the sky at eighty 
miles an hour, the distance from the great river to 
the lake had seemed nothing. From far aloft, the 
country had been spread like a map beneath them 
and from the height of a few thousand feet the lake 
had appeared close to the big river with only a few 
miles of winding, forest-fringed creeks connecting 
the two. But they soon realized that what seemed 
a short run by aircraft was interminably long when 
paddling along the twisting waterways in a canoe. 

198 



VENGEANCE 

They had expected to come out upon the bosom of 
the Essequibo by nightfall at the latest, but sundown 
found them still upon the dark and dismal creek sur- 
rounded by jungle. As they knew that they could 
not go on in the darkness, they were compelled to 
stop and camp for the night. 

Fortunately the red-bearded fellow had had the 
foresight to strip some of the waterproof linen cover- 
ing from the plane's wings and this they erected for 
a tent. They built a rousing fire and tired out with 
their unaccustomed labor of paddling, stretched them- 
selves on another strip of linen and prepared to sleep. 
They were no longer worried, all their self-confidence 
had returned and they joked and laughed to think 
how the Americans would have all their long trip for 
nothing and would find only the useless, deserted 
aircraft at the end of their journey. Their one re- 
gret was that they could not be present to gloat over 
the discomfiture of their enemies and to see their 
puzzled looks and hear their comments when they 
found the fugitives flown and were utterly at a loss 
to fathom the means of their escape. 

But despite their feeling of security, they were 
uneasy. They had nothing to fear for they knew 
there were no hostile Indians in the country; they 

199 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

had the utmost contempt for any wild animals and 
they were armed and could protect themselves even 
if they were attacked. Yet as the hours passed and 
the myriad strange noises and calls and cries of the 
wild things shrilled and grunted and croaked 
through the jungle, the slender highly strung leader 
tossed uneasily on his hard couch and found him- 
self staring, wide-eyed and sleepless into the black- 
ness of the night. His companion — brutal, phleg- 
matic and absolutely without nerves, was snoring 
lustily, and ashamed of his ridiculous fears, the 
other tried to follow his example. 

Then, just as he was dozing off, a low unearthly 
cry reverberated through the forest, a blood-curdling 
moan, rising and falling in weird cadence like the 
wail of a Banshee. At the sound, the noises of frogs, 
insects and night birds ceased as with one accord and 
an awful deathly silence followed. With a sharp cry 
of terror the man sprang up, a cold sweat breaking 
out on his skin, shivers running up and down his spine 
and yet his companion slumbered on. 

Never in his life had this unprincipled, heartless 
villain known the meaning of fear, but like all of 
his sort he was an arrant coward at heart and, though 
he would be the last to admit it, thoroughly super- 

200 



VENGEANCE 

stitious, and that awful cry, ringing through the mid- 
night forest, was enough to bring terror to the bravest 
man. 

In a vague way he knew that jaguars dwelt in the 
forest, but Van Brunt had often talked of the bush 
and had laughed at the idea of a jaguar attacking a 
human being. It never entered his mind that the 
moaning scream, like that of a tortured soul, was 
merely the hunting cry of the big spotted cat. .To 
him it was supernatural, something that could not 
come from a form of flesh and blood, and trembling 
and shaking he cowered there under his shelter with 
straining ears listening for a repetition of the awful 
sound. For a space he was tempted to arouse his 
sleeping comrade, but pride stopped him. The red- 
bearded fellow had not heard the cry, he would 
scoff at the story, would claim his comrade had been 
dreaming or had had a nightmare and would curse 
at being aroused, and so he kept his vigil alone, start- 
ing at each sound of crackling twig or rustling leaf , 
gasping when a frog plumped with a splash into 
the creek and shivering as he crouched beside the 
fire. 

But the minutes passed, the cry was not repeated, 
the frogs and creeping things resumed their chorus 

201 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

and at last, utterly exhausted, the man threw himself 
upon the rough couch and slept. 

With daylight the memories of the terrors of the 
night seemed scarcely more than a dream and, indeed, 
the man tried to convince himself that it had been a 
dream and forebore mentioning it to his companion. 
But all through the day, as they paddled down the 
creek, he was nervous. He had a strange unac- 
countable sensation of being followed and from time 
to time he glanced back, half expecting to see some- 
thing — he did not, could not imagine what — ^behind 
them. So strong was this feeling that when noon 
came and they stopped for lunch, he insisted upon 
landing at a small island in the creek and as the red- 
bearded man had long been accustomed to obeying 
his chief without question, he made no comment and 
followed commands. 

Throughout the afternoon they paddled on and 
again sunset found them upon the creek and they 
began to fear that they had lost their way, that through 
some error they were following the wrong water- 
course and that they would not reach the river by 
continuing. And yet they could not see how this 
could be. They had passed no branches or other 
creeks of any size, the water still flowed in the di- 

202 



VENGEANCE 

rection they were going and reasoning tliat it must 
eventually empty into a larger stream, they dismissed 
their fears on this score, decided that they had mis- 
calculated the distance and the speed of their canoe 
and prepared to camp. 

The leader, however, had no desire to repeat his 
terrifying experiences of the preceding night and 
once more he headed the canoe for a tiny islet io the 
stream. Leaving his companion to start the fire and 
prepare for the night, he followed about the shore of 
the island, pushed through the tangle of bniish, in- 
vestigated it thoroughly, and convinced that there 
was nothing on the place which could possibly be 
feared, he returned with an easier mind to the 
camp. 

Feeling perfectly secure, he soon fell asleep be- 
side his comrade, but his slumber was uneasy; he 
awoke from a fearful nightmare shaking as if with 
fever and tossing an armful of dry wood on the dying 
fire, he squatted near it. Suddenly, from a tree 
above his head, an owl uttered its mournful cry and 
so frazzled were the man's nerves that he jumped 
and yelled in alarm. Drowsily the red-bearded 
fellow opened his eyes, mumbled an oath when the 
other confusedly tried to explain and was soon snor- 

203 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

ing again. Ashamed of his fright at the owl, the 
leader threw himself down and closed his eyes, 
blaming his own foolishness. But though the mon- 
otonous chirping of insects and the soft gurgle of the 
water lulled and soothed, he found himself still 
straining his ears for any unusual sound and was 
as nervous as ever. 

Once he thought he heard the sound of a cautious 
footstep and instantly he sprang up, cocked pistol 
in hand and peered anxiously into the shadows. For 
a brief instant he seemed to glimpse a moving, shape- 
less form and raising his weapon he was about to 
fire, but his hand shook and trembled so he could not 
aim. Before he could steady himself by an almost 
superhuman effort, there was nothing to be seen but 
the dark sluggishly flowing creek and the ghostly 
outlines of the trees. 

But sleep was out of the question. For hour 
after hour he sat wide awake and with every sense 
alert until the gray dawn broke and the shadows of 
the night gave way to the faint morning light. Rising, 
he stepped towards the canoe and as he crossed the 
narrow strip of muddy shore between the water's 
edge and the fire he halted in his tracks, staring with 
unbelieving eyes at the ground. Plainly visible in 

204 



VENGEANCE 

the oozy soil were the imprints of naked human 
feet! 

Some one had been there in the darkness! Some 
one had crept about the camp, and with fears once 
more aroused, but with murder in his heart, the 
fellow cocked his pistol and hurriedly strode about 
the islet. But there was no sign of a human being. 
No boat, no mark of a canoe having been drawn 
ashore; only those footprints near the fire, footprints 
which came from nowhere and led nowhere. As 
far as appearances went the being who made them 
might have dropped from the sky and afterwards 
have taken flight on wings. 

All of the man's superstitions were now aroused 
and regardless of his companion's possible sneers 
and scoffings, he shook the slumbering red-bearded 
fellow awake and showed him the footprints. But 
the burly rascal gave little heed to them, declaring 
they were merely footprints of some Indian and 
might have been there for days. Swearing vocifer- 
ously that he didn't see what there was about an 
Indian's track to cause worry anyway, he vowed that 
he for one would be glad to run across an Indian or 
an Indian village in order to get food, for unless they 

gained the river and managed to secure provisions 

205 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

they would be facing starvation as there were barely 
two days' rations remaining. 

But even with this very real and pressing danger 
confronting them, the memory of the mysterious foot- 
prints were uppermost in the leader's mind. He 
was brave enough in the face of real danger; as long 
as tangible enemies were to be met he had nerves of 
steel, and he had never quailed when peril threatened. 
But this nerve-wracking, haunting fear of an un- 
known, invisible something was beyond his control 
and somehow he could not avoid connecting the 
terrible wailing cry he had heard with the strange 
footprints on the island. And then, just before noon, 
the creek widened and, through the trees ahead, the 
broad river came into view and a great weight seemed 
lifted from his mind as the dismal creek was left 
behind. 

Just below the mouth of the creek they stopped 
for their midday rest on a jutting, wooded point. 
The meal over, the red-bearded man yawned prodig- 
iously, vowed he was going to have a nap before 
going farther and lighting his pipe, threw himself 
down in the shade of a tree. The other, all his fears 
flown, now they were on the big river and with the 
bright sunshine all about, remarked that he would 

206 



VENGEANCE 

wander off in the hope of finding game and filling 
the magazine of his pistol with cartridges, he fastened 
the canoe securely, and puffing contentedly at his 
pipe strolled up the bank into the forest. 

There was little undergrowth, the huge trees, with 
their outjutting roots and their drapery of trailing 
vines and lianas, stood well apart and treading softly 
and glancing here and there, the man walked among 
the trees with pistol cocked and ready. 

From the lofty branches bits of falling fruit and 
nuts told of birds or other creatures feeding among 
the leaves; the hoarse yelping of toucans sounded 
from the foliage; occasionally, a macaw uttered its 
raucous scream and unseen parrots screeched and 
squawked. Once too, a troop of great, red, howling 
monkeys crashed off through the tree tops, leaping 
from branch to branch and uttering hoarse barks of 
protest at the intruder. But no creature appeared 
within pistol shot and at last, thoroughly disgusted 
and realizing that he and his cdmrade were wasting 
valuable time and should be on their way, he turned 
about and started to retrace his steps towards the 
river. 

The next moment he halted in his tracks, shaking 
with nameless terror. His thin-lipped cruel mouth 

207 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

gaped, the ever present monocle dropped unnoticed 
from his eye, the hand that grasped his weapon 
trembled, for once again that awful, blood curdling 
scream had echoed through the jungle. 

For a moment he stood, as though frozen to the 
spot, and then, thinking only to escape from the 
shadowy mysterious forest, to reach his companion 
and the canoe, he dashed forward and raced panting 
towards the river. Once again, and seeming close 
behind him, came that maniacal wail and madly he 
tore downstream, leaping from rock to rock, plung- 
ing to his knees through the shoal water, while from 
the depths of the jungle wavered and rose and fell 
the tiger's call with a note of triumph and mockery in 
its unearthly cadence. 

As the terrifying sound ceased and the fear-mad 
man x^ame in sight of the point, he gasped and halting 
stared about with unbelieving eyes. The canoe was 
gone! 

Instantly, his unreasoning terror of the screaming 
cry was forgotten, for here was something real and 
tangible, a calamity so great it drove all superstitious 
fears, all imaginary dangers from his overwrought 
mind. He had left the boat securely fastened and he 
could not imagine how it had gone adrift. But the 

208 



VENGEANCE 

fact had to be faced, the only chance was to hurry 
down stream in the hopes that they might find the 
canoe stranded on a bar or point, and cursing his com- 
panion for sleeping and thus permitting the craft to 
drift away unnoticed, he shouted to the other at the 
top of his lungs. But there was no response, no an- 
swering cry, and swearing at the soundness of the 
fellow's sleep, he raced up the bank to arouse him by 
more forcible methods. 

Then once again he stood staring in incredulous 
amazement. The red-bearded man was not there! 
Beside the tree his pipe was lying on the ground, the 
imprint of his bulky body still showed upon the soft 
ferns and tender leaves, but the man himself had 
vanished. 

Then the master criminal burst out with such* a tor- 
rent of abuse, oaths, curses and epithets as should 
have caused the very leaves to shrivel, for now he 
realized what had happend. It came over him in a 
flash, goading him into a frenzy of anger. His com- 
panion had deserted him. His nap had been but an 
excuse, a ruse, and taking advantage of his leader's 
absence, he had made off with the boat and the slen- 
der stock of food, leaving his comrade to perish there 

in the heart of the wilderness. 

209 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

Then, his stock of expletives and profanity ex- 
hausted, realizing the utter uselessness of raving at 
the empty air and with his ungovernable temper some- 
what relieved, his reason returned and calmly, with 
determinded mind, he looked the matter squarely in 
the face. 

His case seemed utterly hopeless, but was it? Was 
it not possible for him to win out? Back there by 
the lake their predicament had seemed equally with- 
out hope. They had thought that only by a mir- 
acle could they escape and the miracle, in the 
form of an Indian and a canoe, had happened. 
And with the thought of Indians new hope surged 
through him. To attempt to make his way down- 
stream over the rough and rocky shores and without 
food or shelter was, he knew, impossible; but there 
was a chance, a slender chance, that there might be an 
Indian camp in the vicinity. He could do without 
food for a day or two he felt sure, and perhaps, by 
summoning all his strength, all his indomitable will 
power to the effort, he could manage to reach an In- 
dian village. To be sure he did not know if such ex- 
isted, he had no idea in which direction to go, but 
even if he perished from hunger and exhaustion in 
the forest, it would be preferable to standing here 
beside the river and cursing the villain who had 

210 



VENGEANCE 

deserted him and who was now, no doubt, miles 
down the stream. 

Possibly, he thought, he might find a trail or a path 
and feeling that action of any sort was better than 
inaction, he started into the forest, searching the 
ground for a trail. A moment later he uttered an 
exclamation of satisfaction, for there, faintly visible 
among the weeds and broad-leaved plants, was a 
narrow pathway leading inland. 

Encouraged and not stopping to think that it might 
be a game trail leading nowhere, he stepped forward 
along the almost indistinguishable path. A score 
of paces ahead was a tangled thicket of high 
grass into which the trail led and hurrying along, he 
pressed through the herbage. The next instant a 
piercing cry of horror rang through the jungle, start- 
ling the birds in the tree tops and silencing the chat- 
tering monkeys. 

Lying face down upon the grass, his head resting in 
a pool of blood, was the body of the red-bearded man 
pinned to the forest floor by a spear driven between 
his shoulder blades! 

The horrified man gave a single glance at the life- 
less, bleeding form and then, utterly bereft of his 
senses, crazed with terror of the unseen, mysterious 

211 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

assassin, he turned and dashed blindly, madly, from 
the spot. 

Unheeding, unreasoning, he raced among the trees, 
stumbling over rocks, tripping on upjutting roots, 
ripping his clothes as he tore through thorny vines and 
palms, barking his shins, crashing into trees in his 
headlong flight, until utterly exhausted, he sank 
limply to the earth. 

How long he lay there he did not know. Possibly 
he lost consciousness, possibly his half -crazed mind 
was incapable of judging time; but when at last he 
raised himself and glanced about, the sun was low in 
the west and new terrors filled him as he realized that 
he must remain in the jungle throughout the night. 
But his first nameless, unreasoning, mad fright had 
passed and while he was still weak and trembling, 
his mind was clear and he knew that if he ever was 
to escape from this dread forest he must have shelter 
and a fire. Near him a huge mora tree spread 
twenty-feet, slablike, buttressed roots and between 
two of these he would be somewhat protected. 
Gathering a quantity of dead branches and twigs, he 
piled them near the tree and after a few futile 
attempts had a roaring fire going. He was desper- 
ately hungry, but food was out of the question, 

212 



VENGEANCE 

and seated between the mora roots in the grateful 
warmth of the blaze, he steeled himseK to withstand 
the gnawing pangs of his famished stomach. 

Presently there was a scratching sound above him, 
a bit of bark dropped upon his head and glancing 
quickly up he saw a squitrel clinging to the trunk of 
the tree and gazing wonderingly at the intruder. 
Quickly raising his pistol and taking careful aim, the 
man fired and at the echoing report, the little crea- 
ture dropped lifeless at his feet. Quickly he skinned 
and cleaned the animal and ere the flesh was cold 
had spitted it on a pointed stick and was broiling it 
over the fire. It was a pitifully small morsel for 
a hungry, tired man, but it was far better than noth- 
ing and ravenously he devoured the half-cooked, 
blackened flesh. And as he did so the thin lips 
smiled and a look of satisfaction spread across his 
features. If he could kill one squirrel he could kill 
more — or perhaps larger game. He had learned a 
lesson of the bush; he had discovered that by sitting 
motionless the wild things could be found more read- 
ily than by moving about. He vowed that he would 
yet win out, that he would escape and would reach 
civilization despite fate and his enemies. 

With his hunger somewhat appeased he leaned back 

213 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

against the mora roots and mentally determining 
that he would not again give way to craven fear, he 
strove to dismiss the thoughts of the spear-pierced 
body of his dead companion. 

But he could not forget it, could not drive it from 
his mind, and despite every effort he found himself 
dwelling on the subject, wondering how and by whom 
the red-bearded giant had been killed. That it was 
the work of Indians he knew — the spear thrust 
through the body proved that — and he felt that the 
redskins who had done the deed had also taken the 
boat. Perhaps, he thought, that was it, possibly the 
Indians had followed them to recover their craft and 
surprising the white man asleep had murdered him. 
But if so, why was he not lying dead beneath the 
tree where he had been sleeping? How did his body 
happen to be some distance away in the thicket? It 
was a puzzle, a mystery. The fact that "red-beard" 
was dead did not trouble him, or at least it would not 
have troubled him had he possessed the canoe. 
Rather it would have been welcome, for it would 
have meant more food for himself. He had seen 
and dealt out swift and sudden death too often to 
feel the ordinary man's horror of murder or a dead 
body, but for some unaccountable reason this was 

214 



VENGEANCE 

different. There was something strange, something 
mysterious about it and then there were the nervous, 
groundless fears he had endured while they had been 
upon the creek. 

This brought to mind the awful screams he had 
heard and he shivered as he thought of them, but 
there were no unusual sounds in the forest now, all 
seemed peaceful and at last he dropped into a deep 
sleep. 

With morning came hunger and bearing in mind 
the squirrel of the previous evening, he peered about, 
searching for some other creature to kill. At last, 
with a gleam of almost savage satisfaction, he saw a 
plump, long-legged black and gray bird stepping 
daintily among the trees and with another lucky shot 
secured it. He now felt sure that he would not 
starve and having cleaned, picked and broiled the 
trumpet bird, he rose, stretched himself, adjusted his 
monocle, which by some miracle had escaped 
destruction in his mad flight, and glanced about. 

Then, for the first time, he realized that he did 
not know in which direction the river lay. With the 
discovery he cursed vociferously in his native Ger- 
man and then burst into a mirthless laugh. After 
all, it made little difference. He was gambling on 

215 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

chance, on the faint hope of finding an Indian village, 
and, as far as he could tell, one direction was as 
promising as another and so, scanning the earth in the 
hope that he might find a trail, he walked from his 
temporary resting place through the forest. 

A few hours later he came upon a small brook or 
creek and, knowing that if he followed this he must 
eventually come out somewhere, and finding the bed 
of the stream an easier road than the jungle floor with 
the cool water comforting to his blistered, aching 
feet, he splashed along ankle deep in the stream. 

He had wisely refrained from devouring all of the 
trumpet bird and now, feeling hungry and seeing 
nothing to shoot, he seated himself on a fallen tree 
and munched the bird's drumsticks. Throughout 
the afternoon he tramped on, forcing himself for- 
ward by sheer will power, for he was exhausted by 
the tramp, his feet were swollen and sore, he was 
half starved and 'his skin was scratched, bruised, 
barked and bitten by insects. Then, when he felt 
that he could go no farther, that perhaps after all 
the best thing to do would be to put a bullet through 
his own head, he smelled smoke. There was no 
question of it, he sniffed the air and knew that near 
at hand was a fire, that he was close to a camp or 

216 



VENGEANCE 

hut, that there were fellow men not far away and, 
leaving the stream and following the scent of pun- 
gent wood smoke, he hurried onwards. 

Stronger and stronger became the odor. Now he 
could see the faint bluish haze among the trees and 
feeling that he was saved, that food and help were 
near, he hurried forward. A moment later he saw 
the fire, a smouldering pile of branches, and with 
a despairing cry he flung himself down. The fire 
was his own! Close to it were the great mora 
roots where he had spent the night; all about were 
scattered the feathers of the trumpet bird. He had 
traveled in a circle, had come back to his starting 
point and all that heartbreaking, terrible tramp had 
been for nothing! 

Utterly done up, thoroughly discouraged, feeling 
that he could do no more, he lay there striving to 
summon sufficient courage to place his pistol at his 
ear and pull the trigger. Then to his dulling 
senses, came the sound of a stealthy footfall and 
roused to sudden interest, he raised his head, 
glanced about and cocked his pistol as he did so. 
And at the sight which met his eyes, he was galva- 
nized into life and action. Within ten feet of where 
he lay, crouched a hideous, terrifying apparition, a 

217 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

figure red as blood from whose chest glared two huge, 
painted eyes and a fang-filled mouth, a figure whose 
matted tangled hair framed a face demoniacal in 
his expression of mingled hate and fury and whose 
upraised hand grasped a heavy, hardwood club. 

With a yell that rang through the forest, the white 
man whirled and throwing up his pistol pulled the 
trigger. But at the same instant the avenger leaped 
like his tiger namesake, the bullet whistled harm- 
lessly past his head, the club descended and his vic- 
tim sank with a moan. With the savage, terrible 
cry of the jaguar gloating over its kill, the Indian 
stood above the huddled motionless form, fierce eyes 
watching for the slightest movement, club upraised. 

Then suddenly, he turned, listening intently, as 
to his keen ears came unexpected sounds, the ijoise 
of a boat's keel grating on rock and the shouts of men. 

For a brief instant the avenger hesitated, then with 
a bound he vanished in the shadows and from the 
depths of the forest came his mocking, triumphant 
cry — ^the bloodcurdling, awesome wail of the jaguar. 
He had accomplished his purpose. His murdered 
tribesman was avenged. 



CHAPTER XII 
THE END OF THE TRAIL 

FOR some time after their precipitate depar- 
ture from the spot where the red-bearded 
man's body had been found, those in the 
boat remained silent. 

The Indians, frightened and with all their primi- 
tive superstitions aroused, plied their paddles and 
glanced fearfully first at one shore and then at the 
other, but uttered no words. Colcord, half Indian 
as he was, shared his copper-skinned companions' 
terror to some extent and kept the boat in mid- 
stream, swinging her wide of each point and islet. 
The boys, still shuddering at the horrible sight they 
had seen, were subdued and too much impressed to 
talk; Mr. Pauling, Mr. Henderson and the explorer 
were deep in thought and even the irrepressible Raw- 
lins had no comment to make in the face of this awful 
tragedy. 

But as the point where lay the gruesome remains 
of what had once been the red-bearded giant was left 

219 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

behind and the trees hid the circling birds of ill omen 
from sight, the spirits of those in the boat revived 
and their thoughts turned to the future and what 
might lie ahead of them. There was now but one 
man to search for, the chase had narrowed down, 
but this very fact added to their problems and re- 
duced their chances of success. 

"As you remarked, Rawlins, I would like to know 
where the other man is," said Mr. Pauling, breaking 
the silence. "There's a deep mystery here." 

"I'll say there is!" assented the diver, "but the 
whole thing's been one darned mystery after another, 
ever since the boys first heard those signals back in 
New York." 

"Yes and they've usually solved themselves as 
they arose," Mr. Henderson reminded him. "But 
it looks as if this one would never be solved. I'm 
afraid the answer died with that chap back there in 
the bush." 

"And I'm afraid we'll never set eyes on the chief 
of the rascally gang," declared Mr. Pauling. "I ex- 
pect he's come to a violent end also." 

"What puzzles me," said Mr. Thorne, "is why 
they left their plane and how they became separated. 
Of course, there's a chance that they wrecked their 

220 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

machine in landing or that some accident happened 
to it later or perhaps they tried to fly away and came 
a cropper, but even then it seems natural that the 
men should have remained together." 

"Perhaps they were," suggested Mr. Pauling, 
"Isn't it possible that they were attacked and one was 
killed while the other escaped?" 

"No, I hardly think so," replied Mr. Thorne. 
"The avenger never attacks a victim openly — the very 
nature of his vengeance precludes that. His only 
weapon is a short club or his bare hands and he'd 
have no chance against a well-armed man and still 
less against two. No, he invariably sneaks upon his 
victim while the latter sleeps or is off his guard." 

"But are you sure that fellow was killed by a 
Kenaima?" asked Mr. Henderson. "Isn't it pos- 
sible they had a quarrel with the Indians and that 
he was struck down and his comrade taken prisoner 
or carried off wounded?" 

The explorer shook his head. "There are no hos- 
tile Indians in Gviiana," he averred. "They are 
all peaceable and would never dream of quarreling 
with white men, no matter how great the provocation. 
Besides, there's not the least doubt that he was the 
victim of Kenaima — ^the wooden spear through his 

221 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

body proves that — and there was no sign of a strug- 
gle. No, that man killed an Indian and thereby 
sealed his own doom. It's quite possible that his 
companion was innocent and was not included in 
the Kenaima and hence was unharmed, but if so, 
where can he be?" 

"I'll bet old Red-whiskers deserted his bunkie and 
skipped off," declared Rawlins. "Then he did up 
a Buck and got what was coming to him. Let's beat 
it for the plane — maybe the Grand Panjandrum's 
still over there waiting for his mate to come back." 

"By Jove! that's a possible solution to the puz- 
zle," exclaimed Mr. Pauling, "and even if he did not 
desert he may have gone off on a hunt and while 
away killed an Indian. Yes, I think we'll find the 
answer at the plane — if we can find it." 

"It's a plausible theory," admitted Mr. Hender- 
son. "But there's a flaw in it. How did the victim 
of the Kenaima cross this river? Mr. Thorne says 
Maipurisi is to the east and as far as we know the 
fellows had no boat." 

"Hmm, that's true," mused Mr. Pauling. "Looks 
as if we're up against another mystery." 

"Perhaps they carried a folding boat or found 
an Indian canoe," suggested Tom. 

222 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

"Yes, that's possible," agreed his father, "but 
whatever the explanation our best plan is to go to 
the plane at once. How far are we from Maipurisi, 
Thorne?" 

"A good long day's paddle," replied the explorer. 
"Taguma Creek flows from the lake and empties 
into this river about three miles above here. We 
might make the lake by to-morrow noon." 

"Well, whatever's happened has happened within 
the past four days," declared Rawlins. "They were 
there and talking by radio then. How long should 
you think that man had been dead?" 

"Impossible to say," replied Mr. Thorne. "Prob- 
ably not over two days. If he'd been there longer 
than that, there would have been nothing but bones 
left." 

"Gosh! the last time they talked they were asking 
for help," cried Frank. "Perhaps the Kenaima was 
after them then." 

"You're right!" ejaculated Mr. Pauling. "That 
must have been it. They knew their danger and 
probably tried to escape. But why didn't they get 
off in their plane?" 

"Search me!" said Rawlins. "Let's get hold of 
old Monocle Eye and ask him!" 

223 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

Suddenly Colcord bent forward, shaded his eyes 
with his hand and gazed ahead. "They's a coorial 
yander!" he announced. 

Instantly all turned and peered forward to where, 
barely visible among some rocks, they could now 
see a dug-out canoe apparently deserted. 

"Run over and let's have a look at it," Mr. Thorne 
commanded the captain. 

Swinging his big steering paddle and with a word 
to the Indians, the Boviander turned the boat from 
its course and headed for the little derelict. 

As they drew near, they saw that it was drawn 
upon a ledge and was secured to the rocks and so 
placed that it was completely hidden from view 
except when approached from downstream. 

"Odd!" ejaculated Mr. Thorne. "Some one left 
it here, but where can they be? This little pile of 
rocks wouldn't concea] a rabbit and it's fifty yards 
from shore. Funny place to leave a boat." 

The next moment they were alongside and as Raw- 
lins leaned over and peered into the craft, he uttered 
a surprised exclamation. "By glory, it's theirs!" 

"Jove, you're right!" affirmed Mr. Pauling. 

There was no doubt of it. In the canoe was a 
Luger pistol, a cartridge belt, a few cans of food, a 

224 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

short-handled ax and a roll of kahki-colored cloth. 

Rawlins leaped into the coorial and examined the 
various articles. 

"Now what the dickens do you suppose they left 
their pistol for?" he cried as he picked up the weapon. 
"And they were off for a trip too — took grub along 
and a tent. Hello! Their plane's done for! Look 
here! This cloth's the covering of one of her 
wings!" 

"I'll be hanged!" exploded Mr. Henderson. 
"Then they had deserted the machine and were get- 
ting off in this canoe. They can't be far away!" 

Rawlins laughed. "I'll say one of 'em's a blamed 
long ways off!" he cried. "But the other chap may 
be hanging about. Great Scott, he may be watching 
us from shore now!" 

At the diver's words every one started and glanced 
at the forest-covered banks as if half expecting to see 
the leader of the "reds" peering at them from the 
foliage. Then Sam, who had been holding to the 
rail of the canoe, leaned over and reaching into the 
bottom of the craf. picked up some object and ex- 
amined it. 

"Tha's a cur'oi's-lookin' feather, Chief," he re- 
marked, handing I is find to Mr. Pauling. 

225 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"Hmm, 'tis odd," agreed the latter. "Guess they 
must have killed some bird." 

Joseph, who was seated next to Sam, had turned 
and as he saw the soft, curled black plume his eyes 
seemed about to pop from his head, his mouth 
gaped and in a gasping whisper, he exclaimed, 
"Kenaima!" 

"What's that?" demanded Mr. Thorne, as with 
one accord every Indian wheeled about and sat star- 
ing with frightened eyes at the innocent black feather 
in Mr. Pauling's hand. "How you sabby him Ken- 
aima, Joseph?" 

"Me sabby too much!" stammered the terrified 
Indian. "No likeum, must for makeum walk plenty 
quick this place!" 

"What does he mean?" asked Tom who could see 
nothing in the little feather to cause such excitement 
and terror in the Indians. 

"He means that feathc came from the Kenaima," 
replied the explorer, "and 111 swear lie's right. The 
avenger always wears a girdle or mantle of black 
Powi feathers — the Indians belie v-. they are magic 
and render the wearer iiwisibier-r-^^id this feather is 
from a Powi and has be en used in . cape or girdle. 
You can see where the c 5II hi^^ 1. 1 split and strip- 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

ped — the way the Indians always prepare them when 
making feather ornaments." 

"Then the Kenaima's been here!" exclaimed 
Frank. "Uugh, let's get out of here." 

"Not till we get at the bottom of all this," declared 
Mr. Pauling decisively. "If these fool Indians are 
frightened by their superstitions, I'm not and they'll 
have to get over it, Kenaima or no Kenaima." 

The Indians were now jabbering excitedly in low 
tones and Mr. Thorne was doing his utmost to quiet 
them and allay their terror. 

"No makeum 'fraid!" he admonished them. 
"This fellow Kenaima long time gone. You sabby 
him no makeum Kenaima for Buckman. Him 
killum white fellow like so! Him makeum gone 
topside same way. This fellow Mr. Pauling good 
frien' Kenaima, him want killum bad white fellow 
all same Kenaima. Him gotum plenty peai — plenty 
peai. Must for no niakeu*^ '^raid. Must for do 
all same him tellum 

Somewhat reassured and aiirr ' willing to believe — 
after having witnesir ' d the radio messages 

— that Mr. Pauling ds had "plenty peai," 

and seeing no reasc . te man should not be 

traveling into the 1 tie "Kenaima" of his 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

own, the Indians quieted down, although they looked 
askance at the innocent feather and breathed a sigh 
of relief as Mr. Pauling tucked it into his pocket. 

"What do you make of it, Thorne?" he asked. 
"You're the only one who ^knows the bush and the 
Indians. How do you account for this boat with the 
rascals' property in it, being moored here in mid- 
stream and with a feather — -which these Indians 
claim is from the Kenaima — in it also?" 

"I can't account for it," replied the explorer, "but 
I can offer a theory. It is quite possible that the 
Kenaima trailed the men, that he saw them land here 
and that he examined their boat after they had left 
and dropped one of his feathers. Or again he may 
purposely have placed the feather here as a token 
that he was on their trail — >not stopping to realize 
that it would mean nothing to them." 

"Hmm, but why should they land here and how 
did that red-bearded rascal get miles below" here to 
be killed?" queried the other. 

"That baffles me," admitted Mr. Thorne. "And 
the fact that the pistol is -here adds to the mystery. If 
they started out to hunt, or went ashore for any pur- 
pose, it seems unreasonable to think they would not 
carry their weapons." 

228 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

"Well, we know it's no use going on to Maipurisi 
and trying to find their plane," declared Mr. Hen- 
derson. "It seems to me we've come to the end of 
the trail and might as well go back. Wherever the 
other villain is, it's hopeless to try to locate him." 

"I'll say it's not!" contradicted Rawlins. "He'll 
come back to his boat and we can lie low and nab 
him when he does." 

"Provided he lives and hasn't seen us, perhaps," 
said Mr. Pauling. 

"Well, I've a hunch he's not dead and he can't 
go on, without a boat or grub," argued the diver. 
"I vote we sneak in somewhere and hide and wait. 
If he don't come back by dark we won't be any worse 
off than we are now." 

"We might as well try that scheme," agreed Mr. 
Thorne. "He may be off in the bush hunting for 
his comrade and seen us, he'll return 

in time as Mr. Rai 

"Very well," . Pauling. "I'll try 

anything once anc * i chance." 

Accordingly, t ipiore^ explained to Colcord 
what was wanted nM the Bovumder, after a few words 
with the Indians lid peering about at the shores of 
the river, swung 1 and, rounding the tiny 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

rocky islet, headed for a dark and shadowy creek 
that emptied into the river several hundred yards 
upstream. 

They had proceeded but a short distance when one 
of the Indians turned and said something to Colcord 
in the Akawoia tongue. Instantly, the Boviander 
sniffed the air and muttered a reply. 

"What's up, Colcord?" demanded Mr. Thorne. 

"They's a fire here 'bout," replied the captain. 
"Don' you smell him?" 

"Yes, I believe I do!" exclaimed the explorer 
also sniffing. "Cautiously, Colcord — if there's a fire 
there must be men. We may be close to our quarry. 
Go silently and we may surprise him." 

At the surprising news that there was a camp fire 
near, every one grew tense with excitement and ex- 
pectancy, for while there was a chance that it might 
prove to be an Indian encampment, yet there was 
also a chance — and a very promising one — that it 
might be the fire of the lu'^itive they sought. More- 
over, even were it an Indian's fire the man they were 
hunting might be there and silently they waited as 
with noiseless strokes of their rjaddles the Indians 
urged the boat towards the bank, following the scent 

230 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

of pungent smoke as unerringly as hounds on the 
trail. 

They had almost reached the rocky shores and, with 
weapons ready, the men were preparing to leap ashore 
and dash into the forest towards the thin wisp of 
blue haze that was now visible among the trees, when 
from the jungle ahead, the sharp report of a pistol 
rang out. So totally unexpected and startling was 
the sound that even the stolid Indians uttered cries 
of alarm and surprise. 

"By glory, he's seen us!" exclaimed Rawlins. 
"Missed us though — come on! Over the top, boys! 
We'll—" 

His words died on his lips as from the dark forest 
came a quavering, blood-curdling scream; an un- 
earthly awful sound. 

"What in blazes is that?" cried Rawlins, as the 
boat grated on the rocks and he sprang ashore. 

"Jaguar!" snapped out Mr. Thorne. "He must 
have fired at the beast! Come on!" 

But before he could leap onto the rocks the In- 
dians had seized their paddles and with terrified cries 
of "Kenaima! Kenaima!" were struggling madly to 
push the boat from shore. 

231 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"Stop that!" commanded Mr. Thome. "No 
makeum fool!" 

But his orders were unheeded, the Indians were 
panic stricken. The next second Sam had leaped 
forward and with his huge black hands was cuffing 
the cowering Indians right and left. Wrenching the 
paddles from their grasps he heaved them onto the 
beach. Almost before the others realized what had 
happened, the Bahaman sprang onto the rocks, the 
boat's painter in one hand and his paddle in the other. 

"Ah guess he won' humbug yo' no more," he an- 
nounced grinning. "Yo' go 'long. Chief. Ah'U 
ten' to these boys!" 

"I'll say you will!" cried Rawlins and realizing 
that Sam was perfectly capable of "tending" to the 
Indians and the boat, he dashed up the bank followed 
by the others. 

As the diver reached the first trees, the jaguar's cry 
again came from the juno^l^ h^^f ^^int and far away, 
and the next moment Kdwiiris uttei^^d a shout. 

"Here Jie is!" he y wi'^h drawn revolver 

he leaped towards s g fire. "But by 

glory, I guess the ja. j -je^i -is to it!" 

Huddled near the f ; ged, human form. 

As the diver and the ver the body, they 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

knew that their search was over, for instantly all 
recognized it as that of the master criminal they 
sought. Dangling from its string was a cracked 
monocle; a German automatic pistol was lying by 
the outstretched hand, and blood was oozing from a 
great gash across the back of the man's head. 

"It's he!" exclaimed Mr. Henderson. "But Raw- 
lins' is right — that jaguar finished him." 

Mr. Pauling had torn open the fellow's tattered 
garments and was listening at his chest. "He's not 
dead!" he announced. "Just knocked out. Hurry 
up, get the first aid kit and fix up his wound. He 
may live to answer for his crimes yet." 

Mr. Thorne had been examining the ground about 
the unconscious man and as Tom and Frank rushed 
back to the boat for the first aid kit, he stooped 
and examined the bloody wound on the man's 
head. 

"You're dead wrong about one thing," he an- 
nounced in grave tones. "No jaguar made that gash 
— and there's not a sign of a jaguar about." 

"I'll say there was!" declared Rawlins. "By 
glory! Didn't we hear him yell?" 

The explorer smiled. "That was no jaguar," he 
replied positively. "I'm not surprised the Indians 

233 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

were terrified. This man was struck down by the 
Kenaima!" 

"What!" ejaculated Mr. Pauling, looking up in 
amazement. "You mean to say — " 

"That we arrived in the nick of time to save this 
rascal from the fate of his red-bearded friend," de- 
clared the explorer. "The avenger crept upon him 
and struck him down, but was undoubtedly fright- 
ened off by hearing us approach — remember he can- 
not be seen by human beings until his mission is 
accomplished — and he had no time to finish his job." 

"By glory, you're right!" exclaimed the diver who 
had been examining the earth while Mr. Thorne 
spoke. "There's a trail of bare feet leading away 
from here, but nary a track of a big cat." 

"Well my thanks to the Kenaima," remarked Mr. 
Pauling. "I guess you hit nearer the mark than you 
thought when you said he was 'plenty good fren' of 
ours. But I'm mighty glad he didn't finish this chap 
off. Dead men tell no tales and I've hopes this 
rascal will live to tell a lot." 

"Well, I'm sorry for that poor devil of a Kenaima 
lad," declared Rawlins. "According to Hoyle, as 
you might say, he'll have to go on bumping people 
off indefinitely as long as he didn't run a 

234 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

stick through the old High Muck a Muck here." 

Mr. Thorne chuckled. "I don't think you need 
worry over him," he responded. "I expect he'll 
consider that as long as he did a good job with the 
other victim, he's fulfilled the spirit if not the letter 
of the law. But I'd like to know what these two 
rascals did to bring the Kenaima after them." 

"I'll say they did a plenty!" said Rawlins. 
"Leave it to them to do dirty work — even if they're 
in an uninhabited jungle." 

"Well they won't do any more," averred Mr. Paul- 
ing who, with the others' assistance, was dressing and 
bandaging the man's wound. "If we get him out of 
the bush alive, he'll rue the day he ever went into 
the jungle." 

At last all that could be done was accomplished 
and the still unconscious man was lifted to an im- 
provised stretcher and carried to the boat. The In- 
dians were still sullen and Colcord wore a scowl, 
his spirits evidently ruffled, as he carried on a wordy 
argument with Sam who stood guard, holding the 
rope with one big fist and a threatening paddle with 
the other. 

Placing the wounded man on his stretcher beneath 
the arched awning in the stern of the boat, Mr. Paul- 

235 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

ing called the Bahaman aboard, the explorer or- 
dered the Boviander to push off, and the Indians, 
vastly relieved at being able to get clear of the spot, 
seized their paddles and swung the big coorial into 
the stream. 

"I suppose it's 'home James,' now," remarked 
Rawlins. "We've got the goods — even if they are 
damaged, and by glory, I'm dead sorry it's all over 
but the shouting." 

"So am I," declared Tom. "Gosh, it's hard to 
believe the excitement's over and the man we've been 
after so long is really captured." 

"Gee, yes, and isn't it too bad we can't radio to 
Colonel Maidley that we've got him?" put in Frank. 
"I wish we had our sending set here." 

"Jehoshaphat!" ejaculated Tom, a sudden idea 
coming to him. "Perhaps we'll have some excite- 
ment yet- — I'd forgotten about the loot. Perhaps 
this fellow'U tell us where 'tis." 

Little chance of that," declared his father. 
He'd die with the secret, just to baffle us. Hello, 
he's coming to! I'm sorry to do it, but we'll have 
to put irons on him, Henderson. No knowing what 
he may do when he finds himself here." 

"Yes, it seems inhuman to manacle an injured 

236 



u 
a 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

man," agreed Mr. Henderson as he rummaged in 
his kit bag and got out handcuffs. "But we can't af- 
ford to take chances. He'd drown himself in a mo- 
ment rather than go to trial. But we'll be as merci- 
ful as we can. Just lock one wrist and ankle." 

An instant later the steel rings snapped about one 
of the man's wrists and an ankle and Mr. Henderson 
snapped the others to the boat's timbers. A few 
minutes after he had been thus secured, the fellow 
opened his eyes and looked about; but there was no 
sign of recognition in his glance, and mumbling a 
few incoherent words he again closed his eyes. Mr. 
Pauling poured a glass of water and put it to the 
fellow's lips and he gulped it down eagerly, but said 
nothing. 

"Off his bean a bit yet," commented Rawlins, 
"and I'm not surprised. That was an almighty 
wallop he got." 

"Possibly he may never regain his senses," said 
Mr. Pauling. "It will be a mercy for him if he 
doesn't." Then, glancing about, he exclaimed, 
"Here, where are we going? Have them swing this 
boat around, Thome." 

"Aren't you starting back?" inquired the explorer 
in surprise. 

237 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"Not yet," declared Mr. Pauling. "I want to see 
that plane. We've got to have all the evidence we 
can get and I've an idea some may be there." 

"Hurrah!" cried Tom. "Then it's not all over 
yet." 

Meanwhile the boat had been swung and once more 
was being paddled upstream, but Colcord and the 
Indians kept it as far as possible from the western 
bank and hugged the eastern shores. Two hours 
later they reached the mouth of a wide, dark creek 
and leaving the big river, paddled rapidly along the 
black and silent waterway into the very heart of the 
jungle. Once, as they passed a small island, the 
Boviander drew Mr. Thome's attention to a pile of 
charred and blackened sticks a few yards from the 
beach and remarked that some one had camped there 
recently. 

"Hmm, I expect that's where these precious scoun- 
drels stopped on the way out from Maipurisi," said 
the explorer. "That looks as if we were right in our 
conjectures as to the location of the plane. By the 
way, Colcord, did the Indians recognize that canoe 
we found? Do they know what tribe it belonged 



to. 



a 



They say it Akuria, Chief," replied the Boviander. 

238 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

"Akurias have plenty big camp topside Maipurisi." 
"Then that settles it," declared Mr. Thorne. 
"They landed in Maipurisi and got their coorial 
from the Akuria village. Speed her up, Colcord, 
the sooner we get there the sooner you'll be back to 
Wismar." 

But there was no chance of making the lake by 
nightfall and camp was made beside the creek. 
Strangely enough the Indians appeared to have com- 
pletely overcome their fears of the Kenaima and 
worked as willingly and were as light-hearted as 

ever. 

The wounded man was conscious, but appeared 
utterly oblivious to his surroundings and uttered 
no word. He ate the food which Sam fed to him, 
but he was evidently partly paralyzed and moved 
himself with an effort, not making any attempt to 
even lift his hands or arms. 

"I'm rather glad of that," said Mr. Pauling in a 

low tone. "He doesn't realize he's manacled and 

he doesn't know yet that he's a prisoner. It makes 

me feel a brute to keep him locked that way and if 

he continues as he is, I shall free him. No danger 

of his making a break as long as he cannot move a 

finger." 

239 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

"Well, I don't know," remarked Rawlins who had 
been watching the man closely. "He's a slippery 
duck as you know and I've a hunch he knows a heap 
more than you think and isn't as helpless as he'd 
have you believe. I've caught him looking at your 
back in a darned nasty way. He may be nutty, 
but by glory, a nutty murderer's as dangerous as a 
sane one. I'd keep the bracelets on him if L were 
you." 

"I think Rawlins is right," agreed Mr. Henderson. 
"Even if he is helpless and not himself, you can't 
tell at what moment he may recover and we'd better 
be on the safe side." 

"Perhaps you're both right," acknowledged Mr. 
Pauling, "After all, I don't suppose he's worthy 
of much consideration." 

Throughout the night, some one was constantly on 
watch beside the wounded man, but he made no move, 
seemed to sleep well and in the morning was in 
exactly the same condition as before. 

Before noon the canoe emerged from the creek 
onto a small lake and Mr. Thorne announced that 
they had reached their journey's end. 

"The plane may be anywhere along shore," he 
said. "We'll have to skirt around and hunt for it. 

240 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

But the lake's small and we should have little 
trouble." 

With all eyes searching each indentation and cove 
in the forest-clad shores, the coorial was paddled 
around the southern borders of the lake and before 
they had covered half its circumference, Tom gave 
a shout of triumph. "There 'tis!" he cried. "In 
that little bay." 

"Right you are!" affirmed the explorer. "Pretty 
bad wreck though." 

A minute later the boat was run ashore beside 
the dismantled plane and all scrambled out to ex- 
amine it. 

"Hurrah!" yelled Frank who had caught sight of 
the "reds," camp and the radio instruments. "Now 
we can send a message to Colonel Maidley." 

"Righto!" agreed Mr. Pauling. "Get it off. No 
need of cipher now." 

Quickly adjusting the instruments, the boys called 
the government station at Georgetown and ticked 
off the message telling of their success and the fact 
that they had captured the long-sought ringleader of 
the gang. Then, telling Sam to load the instruments 
into the boat, they joined the others who were ex- 
amining and searching the plane. There was little 

241 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

to be found, however. The hull was filled with 
water, but the nine Indians with the Boviander's help 
dragged the plane high and dry and, the water having 
drained off, Mr. Pauling and his friends removed 
everything within. Then they searched for possible 
secret lockers or compartments and were busy at 
this when Sam approached. 

Touching Mr. Pauling on the sleeve, he drew him 
to one side. "Tha' man he mek to watch yo'," he 
announced in low tones. "Ah was puttin' tha' in- 
s'ments abo'd an' Ah looks up an' see he liftin' he 
haid an' tryin' fo' see what yo' doin'. An, Chief, he 
move he ban's 0. K. Ah sees he clutch he fis's an' 
Ah knows he was cursin' under he breath. Ah's 
pos'tive he's jus' playin' possum. Chief." 

"Hmm," mused Mr. Pauling. "Well, you stay 
there and keep a strict guard over him, Sam. Thank 
you for telling me." 

"Didn't I say so?" exclaimed the diver when Mr. 
Pauling repeated Sam's information. "He'll bear 
watching all right." 

"Well, I think we may, as -well leave," declared 
Mr. Henderson. "There's nothing more of interest 
here — only water-soaked provisions, extra clothes 
and — by Jove! what's this?" 

242 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

As he spoke he had tossed a sodden coat onto the 
shore and as he did so a dark leather wallet or bill 
book had dropped from a pocket. Stooping quickly, 
he picked it up and opened it while the others gathered 
close about. Within were bank notes of large de- 
nominations, a few. letters absolutely illegible from 
the water and a larger folded sheet of tough parch- 
mentlike paper. Carefully, Mr. Henderson unfolded 
it and glanced at it. 

"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "It's a chart." 

"I'll say it is!" cried Rawlins. "And of the West 
Indies ! By the great horn spoon, now we've got 'em 
dead to rights!" 

"Gosh, perhaps it's a map of where they hid their 
loot!" cried Tom excitedly. 

"And we can go and get it!" put in Frank. 

"I'll say 'tis and we can!" yelled Rawlins. "It's 
all over but the shouting! Come on, let's beat it 
for Georgetown with this duck and then hike after 
their loot! This bush work may be all right, but 
me for the ocean. I'm itching to get under water 
again. By glory, treasure hunting's my middle 
name!" 

Mr. Pauling laughed. "I had an idea that hunches 
were," he chuckled. "But come on. Nothing more 

243 



RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE 

to keep us here and it's mainly your hunches, Raw- 
lins, that have carried us through." 

"Not a bit of it," declared the diver. "You'll 
have to thank the radio detectives for that. I'd never 
have had any hunches if it hadn't been for them." 

A few minutes later the lonely jungle lake had been 
left behind. The boat sped down the creek towards 
the great river, while the Indians' rousing, homeward 
bound chantey startled the screeching parrots from 
the tree tops. A monkey crept curiously from his 
hiding place and gazed quizzically at the deserted 
seaplane. Beside a jungle stream an Indian washed 
the painted eyes and grinning fang-filled mouth 
from his chest and smiled contentedly and with grim 
satisfaction as he thought of how well his tribesman 
had been avenged. The long search which had 
carried Mr. Pauling and his friends so far and into 
such strange places was over. Their mission had 
been accomplished. The radio detectives had done 
their part, the arch criminal was a prisoner; they 
had come to the end of the trail and now only the 
plunging, swirling, thrilling rush down the great 
river and through the churning rapids lay between 
them and civilization. 

THE END 

(I) 



SPLENDID STORIES FOR BOYS 



OVER TWO SEAS 

By RALPH HENRY BARBOUR and H. P. HOLT 

A splendid story of two boys' adventures in the 
South Seas. 

RENFREW OF THE ROYAL MOUNTED 

By LAURIE YORKE ERSKINE 

Seldom does a book catch so vividly the brave spirit 
and dramatic deeds of men in the wilderness. 

SPOTTED DEER 

By ELMER RUSSELL GREGOR 

Another of this author's well-known stories of what 
an Indian's life was really like. 

THE DEEP SEA HUNTERS 

By A. HYATT VERRILL 

A popular writer for boys and authority on the sea, 
tells a story of exciting whale hunting. 

SCOTT BURTON AND THE 
TIMBER THIEVES 

By EDWARD G. CHENEY 

Again this writer combines a lively yam with a great 
deal of forestry information. 

NED BEALS, FRESHMAN 

By EARL REED SILVERS 

The author of the Dick Arnold stories gives the 
boys a true-to-life tale of freshman year. 



D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
New York London 



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